#or did Logan also get dragged to the bed? while asleep? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stillfrownyclownlol · 11 months ago

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Tylo save me...Tylo...save me Tylo...

WHATEVEER leave me alone more ship alphabet garbage 😭😭😭 I'm gonna sleep I got work tomorrow 🫠🫠🫠

Logan Fields

A = Affectionate

A bit reserved. He's never had anybody to be affectionate with besides his grandparents so he doesn't really know where to draw the line. Also, you know. Hes gay in Georgia in 2016, he needs to be careful. A lot more comfortable with verbal affection tho!

B = Best Friend

Logans never had friends so like. If he did have a best friend he would be really loyal to like a concerning degree, probably protective too, but also extremely helpful and encouraging, always trying to teach you new things :D

C = Cuddles

A littleeeee touch starved :< So he does like cuddling with Tyler, especially since they don't get the chance to do it a lot (only at Tyler's house). He's super melty because he has to take off his glasses for it and he gets sleepy quickly. Will probably fall asleep during it...^_^

D = Domestic

He's a little romantic in the sense that he wants to get married and settle down, have a kid, and 3 cats. He's not in a rush or anything but it is something he looks forward to with Ty. He's good at household chores, especially cleaning and taking care of the garden, and he's a pretty good cook. His specialty is still baking tho.

E = Ending

If his relationship with Tyler spiralled (which has a decent chance of happening) :> If the resentment he had with Tyler boiled over and all the bitterness came out, yeah, he'd probably end things, probably in a yelling match. It's hard to see them breaking up amicably ahaha :")

F = Fiancé

He spent a lot of his childhood/early teens thinking he'd never be able to get married, so...it's a big deal for him. Cried when Tyler said yes (and while proposing)

G = Gentle

Generally he's pretty soft spoken. He's not a super physically aggressive person...but he has his moments 🫠 But usually he's pretty light with Tyler, specially since he has like...chronic pain...🤡 Also good at saying super mushy stuff that makes Tyler implode

H = Hugs

A bit awkward about it, but he likes hugging. Always a little hesitant, so waits till Tyler hugs him first, but he's a v good hugger :) very cozy aura. He's a short king so he can snuggle into Ty's chest.

I = I love you

Was so nervous he almost threw up- Got really emotional and cried- he didn't plan it so the whole thing was a mess lmao

J = Jealousy

Tends to manifest as insecurity more than sheer jealousy. Sometimes thinks Tyler will leave him for somebody "better" (him and Tyler are actually pretty similar in that regard) and he might honestly just bring up how he thinks Tyler can do better depending how far they are in the relationship.

K = Kisses

A bit shy. Gets flustered by proper kissing so he's more of a pecker, usually kisses Tyler's cheek or chin because it's hard to reach him with their height gap- he gets all gooey when Tyler asks him to kiss him on the mouth tho (^_^)//

L = Little Ones

He likes children! He finds them more honest than people his age kkkkk. He also likes how children are constantly learning new things and likes teaching them about interesting facts :D gets a bit overwhelmed by hyperactive children though, better with children who have quieter characters like himself.

M = Mornings

Eepy lil guy. So seepy. Big tirremd. Barely coherent in the morning, also he's not wearing his glasses or contacts so he can't even see help him. He needs a shower and like four cups of coffee to even wake up lmao. Tyler be literally dragging him out of bed because otherwise they're GONNA BE LATE-

N = Night

Total night owl, loves staying up late (especially in the summer) to use his telescope. Tyler has to drag him INTO bed otherwise he's gonna stay up till 4am or fall asleep on the balcony :>

O = Open

Honestly pretty closed off, he doesn't like talking about his past unless it's really necessary. Gets anxious if Tyler asks personal questions early in the relationship.

P = Patience

Patience is a virtue he's worked hard to cultivate. He does kind of bottle of his negative emotions so when he *does* lose his patience it tends to be explosive.

Q = Quizzes

Good memory and very detail-oriented, so he knows a lot about Tyler, and he's also good at applying that knowledge. He's better at reading him than most people.

R = Remember

His favourite moments are whenever Tyler is just unapologetically sweet and sappy with him. Makes him forget how mean he used to be :>

S = Security

Way more chill than Tyler, he trusts him to take care of himself, but sometimes he thinks about Tyler stuck on the tree...bleeding out...his organs torn to shreds... and he worries about him 🫠

T = Try

Of course he tries. He's trying so hard. To be brave. To love him unconditionally. To forgive him. He just needs time...hopefully.

U = Ugly Habit

Kind of a grudge holder and he's one of those people who will be kinda salty after you apologize for smth even tho he accepted the apology. Passive aggressive ngl. Tyler is always "..." whenever Logan is annoyed with him even tho he prolly deserves it 🤡

V = Vanity

He doesn't *not* care about his appearance but he doesn't care a loooot. Was raised to be well-groomed so he is very clean and proper but fashion-wise he's kinda...y'all know 😔 (he can look like a nerd and still be fashionable BUT he isn't just look at him 😭)

W = Whole

They got that trauma bond so no, not really, he wouldn't feel "whole" without Tyler. But I think he would be able to move on at some point.

X = Xtra

Very serious about learning Spanish! Tyler's kinda "...bro I don't even know it that well" about it but Logan wants to make an effort. He's really smart including in languages so eventually he starts speaking more proper Spanish than Tyler (but with a horrible accent) which Ty's just dead over. He can have a full on convo with Marianna and everything.

Y = Yuck

HATEEEES how protective Tyler is. Like he understands where he's coming from but OMFG he feels SO infantilized by it sometimes. And also Tyler is constantly trying to help him and Logan just feels like Ty doesn't trust him to do things by himself. He hates people who let their anger control them too, if Tyler is mad he will just walk away from the argument and hang out in his room.

Z = ZZZ

Looks like an absolute angel while sleeping, it's ridiculous. He just looks so goddamn peaceful and serene, Tyler is just "?!!?!?" and wants to combust 🫠

Tyler Hernández

A = Affection

His way of showing affection is like. Annoying. He's that kind of guy who shows his care by teasing the crap out of you 🤡👌🏽 Logan was kinda intimidated at first but now he's like. So over him because he knows his bf is dumb. He understands the chalequeo.

B = Best Friend

He your RIDE OR DIE FR. Omg...THAT WASNT ON PURPOSE, I just meant that he's really loyal even though he's kind of a "tough love" kind of guy 😭 would tell you if your bf sucked ngl

C = Cuddles

Secretly wants to hug Logan all the time. Logan is very soft and he just kinda...melts when they cuddle. Like its a guaranteed way to relax him, and lord knows he needs to relax.

D = Domestic

King of household chores. Compulsive cleaner. Cooks AND does the laundry. He cannot sit still for five seconds help him 🤡 It would take him a LONG time to be comfy not living with his mom or sister (I think Taylor would move out first) so there might be like. A small period where he and Logan live with Marianna.

E = Ending

He's kinda...reluctant to ever break up with anybody, especially Logan. If he did it'd be like, more on accident after losing his temper, like Logan saying maybe he should leave and Tyler saying he will or whatever. He'd regret it ofc 🤡

F = Fiancé

Oh, he was really surprised when Logan asked him. And happy :). He had gen never thought about it cuz he was so stressed lmao but he was real excited and also lowkey terrified 🫠

G = Gentle

Verbally he's pretty harsh, that's just how he is. But physically, besides the occasional arm/shoulder tug, he's very careful with his loved ones <3 sometimes when he's sad he holds Logans cheeks or rests his head on his lap.

H = Hugs

Ohhhh he loves hugging. If he could, he'd be hugging Logan constantly 😭 his hugs are REALLY long and he kinda does that like. Swaying motion. Also lifts Logan off his feet. Literally shoves his face into his shoulder.

I = I love you

He needs to be really sure of his feelings to say it, and even then he usually says it very quietly or when he thinks Logan won't notice. For some reason has an easier time saying it in Spanish (he just like me fr)

J = Jealousy

Yeaaaaahhhh...worse than Logan. Hate watches people who be getting touchy with Logan :) you know he would get salty/sassy about it he's just Like That TM. And Logan is not putting up with that haha.

K = Kisses

Awkward and makes it way more tense than it needs to be smh. If he's kissing him on the mouth he gets really nervous and squeezes his eyes shut and just HOVERS there waiting for Logan to close the gap 💀 Kisses the top of his head a lot so Logan can't see him blushing cuz he's a loser.

L = Little Ones

Like a beleaguered babysitter. He finds kids annoying and he can be a little Itty bitty bit mean to them sometimes but he's like that annoying older cousin you had that you liked to play with because they were Real with you. Hair ruffler.

M = Mornings

Wakes up right with his alarm and gets straight to work. He goes jogging and does stretches, then comes back home to make breakfast. Logan sleeps through it all help

N = Nights

He goes to bed at like 9pm because he's a dork lmao and he gets tired 🤡 That doesn't mean he'll fall asleep tho! He's super restless and will be tossing and turning and sometimes Logan will spoon him so he'll sit still and relax for a second-

O = Open

...No 💀 HELP NONE OF THESE KIDS ARE OPEN FFS- 😭 naaaah he doesn't feel like telling people his "sob story" or whatever and he doesn't really like talking about it 🫠 He mentions things offhandedly to Logan, who...understands and doesn't ask.

P = Patience

Whatever he loses his temper easy, big deal. Consistently annoyed at the world, and who can blame him? World kinda sucks 🤡 he's been working on not losing his cool so quickly because Logan just doesn't like being around angry people.

Q = Quizzes

He is a detail-oriented guy with a good memory, not to mention being well organized, so he has a space for "important Logan info" that he thinks might be useful at some point. Not at Aiden's level tho (fortunately 🤡)

R = Remember

When Logan confessed, because he was just so...I'm tryna think of the right word here omg. Like, in awe? That this guy he's been crushing on and was honestly not that nice to liked him BACK? And they were so earnest and genuine about it and he was just???? Help???

S = Security

Tyler is overprotective of Logan the same way he's overprotective with all the people he cares (a lot) about. He will put himself in front of him in dangerous situations, remove him from situations if *he* thinks they're dangerous...can get kinda annoying about it...

T = Try

Tyler puts 110% of himself in anything he cares about so yes, he is trying very hard in this relationship. He is very meticulous about helping Logan out whenever possible, planning outings/dates, controlling himself around him, etc etc. Trying to get Logan's forgiveness

U = Ugly

He is overprotective and sometimes doesn't let Logan handle things by himself when Logan totally could. The aforementioned anger issues are also a problem :/ Also can be kinda brash and won't...filter his thoughts before hand when he probably should.

V = Vanity

About as concerned as the average teenage boy is. That is to say, very little- (helpppp I know this isn't the case for everybody LOL). He literally still matches outfits with his sister I don't think he cares about his own style too much LMAO

W = Whole

Nahhhh all of them got that trauma bond for life and would feel incomplete with out each other. I think he'd take it a lot worse than Logan too.

X = Xtra

Sometimes they go to church together as deeply repressed Catholic boys with religious trauma. Tyler thinks he'll go to Hell whenever they kiss but he's gonna do it anyways 😔

Y = Yuck

He doesn't really like, how do I say this, like. "Vapid" people I guess (this is just how he views some people tho). Like for example before knowing him better he thought Aiden was a really shallow person. So he'd never date anybody who he thought had nothing going on under the surface. Needs the relationship to be serious, like, he doesn't want anything casual.

Z = ZZZ

He has bruxism and like, scratches his throat while sleeping (not with his hands like, the swallowing thingy you do) (cuz he just like me fr), and he is literally so loud it will wake Logan up at night even tho he's a deep sleeper 😭

#sbg #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#tyler hernández #logan fields #tyler x logan #headcanons #ship alphabet

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years ago

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Safety In Numbers

Prompt: Could you maybe write a Prinxiety fic where Roman and Virgil are both dealing with persistent nightmares and keep coming to each other for comfort afterwards. And then eventually they start (literally) sleeping together to try to help with the nightmares, which actually ends up working, but also ends up with them falling in love with each other? - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues

Pairings: prinxiety

Word Count: 3872

Because everybody knows monsters can’t get you if you’re under your sheets.

They extra can’t get you if you’re with a friend.

“You know what? Forget it.”

“No, Virgil, wait—“

“No, really,” Virgil says again, already turning away, “forget it. I won’t ever mention this again and—“

“Virgil,” Roman interrupts, grabbing his arm, “come—just come back, I didn’t even say anything yet—“

“You didn’t have to, Princey—“

“I was about to ask you—“

“You don’t—“

“Please,” Roman cries out, his voice cracking, “just listen to me?”

Oh, shit. Virgil stops, letting Roman drag him back toward the door but refusing to look at him. He worries his lip between his teeth as Roman takes what is obviously a shaky breath over his shoulder.

“…yes, Virgil, I’ll—I’d be happy to.”

His head jerks up and around. “Wait, what? Really?”

Roman smiles faintly, the hand on his arm softening its grip. “Yeah, Virgil, I’ll sleep with you.”

So as it turns out, having nightmares in the Mindscape? Not fun. Nightmares in general, are not fun, but for metaphysical humanoids whose ties are directly to things like imagination and fear, extra not fun.

Remus probably has a great time with it but different strokes for different folks and all that.

When it comes to regular sleep schedules, Virgil can get close to a ‘schedule’ of sorts, but he sure as hell isn’t getting anywhere near a normal eight hours a night, or whatever Logan said was the healthy amount. No, he’s lucky if he averages around, like, five? Maybe? And when he does manage to sleep, it’s not exactly restful.

He’s had several conversations with Remus about what he can do to make the thought gremlins in his brain shut the fuck up, but unfortunately, he is Anxiety, and there’s only so much he can do.

He took to wandering the halls years ago, determined to wear his brain out by having it jump at every moving shadow or blinking light while his body shambled around, thinking maybe it would help him get to sleep. Did it work? No, not even remotely near half the time, but it was a damn sight near better than trying to get himself to sleep by lying in a bed and doing nothing.

That’s how he first ran into Roman in the middle of the night.

Turns out the Imagination has its own…time zone, so to speak, and Roman’s penchant for taking quests and spending his time working in not-the-Mindscape meant that he wasn’t on the same circadian rhythm as the rest of them. Thomas probably has fun with that. Anyway, he remembers coming downstairs to see Roman in the kitchen, making himself a cup of tea, and squeaking out something about not realizing the time.

Roman had jumped, which Virgil had savored, he won’t lie, and mumbled something about losing track of time in the Imagination and it being the equivalent of about twelve hours worth of jet lag.

Talking with Princey had been an excellent way to ward off the nightmares, even if he had shuffled off with the excuse of needing to sleep and actually managing it a few hours above his record time.

Of course, Roman wasn’t exactly being truthful about the reason why he spent so much time in the Imagination.

Remus’s pull over the rest of them was strong, but he wasn’t their other half. Roman heard a lot of Remus’s activities, especially while they were asleep. And sure, that did mean that the twins knew exactly what was wrong when the other couldn’t get to sleep without their chests heaving like they’d just run a marathon, but oftentimes it was because the thought had flickered across their minds a second or two earlier.

Remus knew, Roman knew, and the two of them did their best.

Virgil’s nightmares were what could be. Roman’s nightmares were the manifestations of what is.

They found a compromise.

“Are you sure,” Virgil mutters for the twelfth time as Roman gets into bed beside him, “I can just sleep on the floor or something.”

“Virgil,” Roman sighs, reaching up to switch off the big lamp and turn on the little one instead, “I said it was fine, didn’t I? This bed is huge, we don’t even have to know the other one’s here if we don’t want to.”

Virgil shifts. Roman’s bed is huge, and ridiculously soft. Plus it’s piled high with all the blankets he could ever ask for. “…y’sure?”

Roman blinks, then shuffles closer and knocks their foreheads together. “I’m sure. Now shh, I wanna try and sleep, okay?”

“You shh,” Virgil mumbles, snuggling one of the blankets up to his chin.

Roman’s chuckle follows him down into the depths of sleep.

They don’t have nightmares that night.

Roman jolts awake in the middle of the night and sits up, feeling something thrashing on the other side of the bed. He quickly reaches out and turns on the lamp, letting the warm light cause away some of the shadows.

“No…no…no…”

He turns over, his chest tightening when he sees Virgil’s white-knuckled grip on the pillow next to him. He takes a deep breath and reaches out, softly stroking his fingers over the bones.

“Virgil,” he murmurs, “Virgil, wake up, it’s just a nightmare.”

Virgil doesn’t acknowledge him. His brow furrows and he lets slip another stream of heartbreaking pleas.

“Leave them alone,” he slurs, “no—no, go away—“

“Virgil,” Roman calls again, more insistently now, “Virgil, wake up.”

When Virgil doesn’t stir, he bites back a curse and reaches out to shake his shoulder.

“Virgil, wa—ah!”

Virgil flails, eyes shooting open as Roman shakes him away, accidentally clipping him on the underside of the jaw. “Oh, shit—“

“Virgil?” Roman recovers quickly and reaches out, carefully cupping his elbow. “Are you alright?”

“Shit, Roman, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you, I’ll go—“

“Shh, shh, shadow-ling,” Roman murmurs instead, taking him slowly and gently into his arms, “none of that now, I’m not hurt, you think I’m brothers with Remus without learning how to take a surprise punch?”

“…no.”

“Then there you go, shadow-ling, it’s alright, you didn’t hurt me.” Roman tucks Virgil’s head under his chin and lets out a soft noise. “I know you can do better than that.”

“Of course I can,” comes the slightly sulky reply as Roman chuckles, “but I didn’t mean to hit you.”

“I know, I know, shadow-ling, I know it was an accident. Waking up from nightmares is hard.”

Virgil is quiet, letting Roman rub up and down his back. Roman reaches out and tucks the blankets a little closer around them.

“Do you want to talk about it, Virgil?”

Virgil shakes his head, instead nuzzling absentmindedly into Roman’s neck. Roman nods and pulls him closer.

“You just need touch right now?”

“Mhm.”

Roman wraps him up in his arms and rolls them, landing so Virgil is half on top of him, his weight pressing them into the mattress. He calls his name gently until he hears a hum in response.

“It doesn’t have to be right now,” he murmurs, “but can you tell me what you like? Or what you need? Just so I know what I can do?”

“Just—“ Virgil tucks his head more insistently under Roman’s chin— “stay?”

“Of course I’ll stay,” Roman says immediately, “but what else?”

When Virgil is still and quiet, Roman feels his chest tighten again.

“Do you know what you like, shadow-ling?”

“…no one’s ever really…”

Oh. Well, that just won’t do. Roman swallows down the rage of no one ever comforted you when you had nightmares? How was that allowed to stand? He starts carding his fingers gently through Virgil’s hair.

“Not ever? Not even when we were younger?”

“Janus would sometimes be there to tell me it wasn’t real,” he mumbles, words beginning to go a little as Roman’s fingers linger in his hair, “or Remus would be there to make me grateful it wasn’t worse, or that I wasn’t alone, but…”

His speech stutters as Roman presses a gentle kiss to his temple.

“…no one ever did this.”

Roman’s chest begins to lighten a little as he savors the feeling of having Virgil here, solid and warm in his arms in the soft light. “Well, then, I’d say it’s about high time someone did.”

Virgil blinks. And blinks. And blinks.

Why is he awake? It’s the middle of the night, at least as close to it as he can tell, and he’s pretty sure it wasn’t when he closed his eyes, so he must’ve slept for some of it.

Does he need to go to the bathroom? No, that’s not it. Is he uncomfortable?

Well, now that he thinks of it, this bed is really warm. Did Roman turn the temperature up or something? He rolls over, about to ask Roman if he’s awake, what he’s done, can he make the room not a sauna, when his words die on his tongue.

Roman is lying completely still.

“…R’man?”

His tongue is still slack from sleep but when Roman doesn’t so much as twitch, his brain starts to come online pretty damn quick.

“Roman?”

He reaches out. Winces. Roman is burning up.

“Roman, wake up!”

Roman won’t move. Virgil takes a deep breath and sits up properly, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder.

“Roman,” he calls again, “Roman, c’mon, buddy, I need you to work with me here.”

Roman still won’t move. Virgil bites back a curse and shakes him as lightly as he can.

“Roman, come on—hey, hey, shh, shh, it’s only me.”

Roman, whose eyes had flown open, stares at Virgil like he’s the devil come back to haunt him. Virgil reaches out and quickly turns on the light, rubbing his shoulders to try and ground him here and now, watching anxiously to see if any of the mania fades from Roman’s gaze.

“It’s Virgil,” he says, voice soft and kind, “it’s just me. We’re in your room, Princey, we’re in bed, you’ve got blankets all around you and a frankly incredible amount of pillows.”

Roman’s gaze stays on his, even as Virgil’s drops to trace the frightened roll of his throat. “Y-you’re still here?”

Virgil frowns, his grip loosening slightly as he lies back down next to him. “Of course I’m still here, what’re you—“

Oh. Oh, shit.

“…is that what it was?”

Roman’s gaze flickers away as shame begins to color his cheeks. “You…all of you, you were…I was…”

Virgil reaches out to wrap his hand through Roman’s when he hesitates. “We were what, Roman, what happened?”

Roman takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, not to try and retreat, Virgil realizes, but to give himself the courage to say the poisoned words leaking through his tongue. “You were ignoring me. It was like I didn’t exist. I called—and call—called and you—you—“

“Shh, shh,” Virgil soothes, stroking the soft skin on the back of Roman’s hand, “I’m right here, Princey, you’re real, I’m real, we’re both here.”

“You were g-gone,” Roman manages through a sob that makes Virgil’s chest throb, “you—y-you were—“

“Oh, shh, Princey,” he says softly, rolling Roman toward him and wrapping his arms around his shoulders, “it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Roman keeps babbling out whatever horrors his mind conjured up to spook him so badly, Virgil murmuring reassurances and sympathetic noises whenever there’s a big enough sob. It’s strange, how much Roman curls into him, tucking himself into the crook of Virgil’s embrace even when Roman dwarfs him on a day-to-day basis.

But maybe that’s it. Roman has to take care of almost everyone when they’re up and around doing the day. He’s the prince, the knight, their protector, and he does his job so fucking well that the rest of them don’t even have to think about the horrors of the Imagination of the terrible reality that they aren’t reality. Roman just…deals with it.

Who helps Roman deal?

“I’m not going anywhere, Princey,” he murmurs again, firmer this time as Roman begins to slow his frantic tirade, “you just hang onto me, okay?”

Shadows. Red eyes. Claws. Sharp teeth. Running. Running. Running. Running.

“Where are you going, little one,” comes the voice that grates against the undersides of your bones, “what is so delicious that it’s luring you away from me? Come, come, little one,” it sings, “come to me.”

Your legs won’t work. They are gelatinous, painfully so, refusing to cooperate as you wade through the murky fog that wants to keep you here.

“Come,” it slurs again, gaining on you leisurely, “let me eat your dreams.”

Your blood knows it is not made to drink it. It rebels, throwing you forward, away, away, away from the creature behind you. You do not know what it truly looks like. Your blood does not want you to know.

“Come closer,” it whispers, breath on the back of your neck, “let me—“

“Virgil, wake up, it’s alright, you’re safe.”

Virgil’s eyes shoot open, panting, his chest on fire. He flails, trying to dislodge the last of the fog from around his limbs but he can’t, it’s too thick, he can’t move—

“Virgil,” the voice calls again, softer now, gentler, “shh, shadow-ling, it’s alright, it’s just me, you’re tangled up in the blankets.”

He blinks, disoriented. Blankets? What blankets? Where is he?

“Virgil.” He blinks. A face. “Virgil, can you look at me?”

Terror still glues his mouth shut.

“Shh,” as a hand comes up to stroke gently at the underside of his chin, “shh, calm down, shadow-ling, you’re alright, shh.”

“R—Roman?”

“Yes, that’s it, shadow-ling, it’s just me.” Roman smiles down at him, arms deftly undoing the tangle of sheets and blankets he’s found himself in. “You’re alright, my darling, you’re alright.”

“Roman—“

“Oh, come here.” And Roman catches him effortlessly as he throws himself up off the bed and into his arms. “Yes, there you go, I’ve got you, good job.”

He can move. He has his limbs, he’s not stuck, no one is trying to steal them, he’s safe, he’s safe, and it’s warm—

“Yes, shadow-ling, I’ll keep you warm, look at you, you’re freezing, even after all of these blankets, come here…”

Roman’s litany of reassurances works its way into the icy knots beneath his skin and soothes them loose, warm hands rubbing up and down his back, warm kisses pressed to his cheeks and his forehead. He turns them, lying down with Virgil atop his chest.

“There,” he rumbles, chest purring next to Virgil’s ear, “you just lie there and breathe for me, okay?”

Virgil squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on the shallow movement of Roman’s stomach against his and the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart. Roman is here. Roman is warm. Roman is safe. Roman will keep him safe. Roman won’t let anything into this room.

“I’ve got you, shadow-ling,” comes the gentle rumble of Roman’s voice, “you’re here with me.”

“How’re you so warm?”

A soft chuckle. “I’m a space heater, I’m afraid.”

Virgil lets out a soft whine he will vehemently deny if it’s ever brought up as he snuggles closer. “I don’t mind.”

“Good,” Roman whispers, another kiss pressed to the top of his head, “that’s good, shadow-ling.”

And as the terror melts away, something else grows to replace it in the pit of Virgil’s chest. The warm light of the lamp closes in around them, holding them here, separate, safe in the pocket of Roman’s room. He shyly nudges Roman’s hand again, hoping that he won’t stop touching him. And just as he’d wished, Roman begins to run his fingers gently up and down Virgil’s spine. The light sensation draws forth the last of the fear and chases it away. Virgil closes his eyes and lets Roman hold him.

Oh.

Oh, no.

“I…I’ll never be good enough for you,” you mumble, your eyes fixed on their face, “will I?”

They are silent. You swallow.

“No matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I—I won’t ever be good enough, will I?”

They look at you. They smile. They come forward and cup your face in their hands. It would be tender if it weren’t so detached.

“No,” they whisper tenderly, “you won’t.”

Everybody knows the Sides. There’s Patton, Morality. There’s Logan, Logic. There’s Virgil, Anxiety. There’s Janus, Deceit. And there’s Remus, Creativity.

The five of them help Thomas sort through the problems of his life. The ups and downs, the highs and lows. They all fight, but all families do, and they all love each other at the end of the day. They’re happy.

They’re finally happy.

You watch as the world slowly forgets you.

You watch as the world is finally happy.

Roman wakes up with tears drying on his cheeks and a muffled sob trapped in his throat. For a moment, all he can do is lie still. Don’t move. Don’t move and they won’t notice you. Don’t move and they won’t have to forget you.

“Princey? Hey, Princey, I need you to look at me, buddy.”

A hand? A hand on his cheek. Cupping it gently and turning his face to see another.

“There you are, hey. You wanna stay with me for a little?”

Virgil. It’s Virgil. Virgil’s looking at you. Virgil can see you. Virgil remembers you.

“Yeah, of course I remember you, Princey, you’re one of my favorites.” He makes a face. “Though don’t tell anyone I said that.”

Virgil is here. Virgil remembers you. Virgil won’t leave.

“Of course I won’t leave, Princey, I’m right here. Is that what scared you?” When he nods, Virgil lets out a soft noise and rolls his arms under him, scooping him up off the wet-soaked sheets and into his arms. “Hey, none of that now, I’m right here.”

He tucks his head underneath his chin and an arm behind his knees, lifting him up to sit in his lap. He holds him tightly, rocking him slightly back and forth.

“There,” he murmurs, “you just sit here with me for a sec, yeah?”

“V-Virgil?”

“Yeah, buddy, I’m right here.”

“You—you stayed.”

“Of course I stayed, where would I go? You’re right here and you need to be comforted.”

Roman lets his eyes fall shut as tears roll down his cheeks. Some must splash onto Virgil as he lets out a comforting sound. The hand on his back shifts him closer.

“I’ve got you, Princey, I’ve got you. You’re right here with me, I’m real, you’re real, this is real.”

A hand reaches down, tangling with Roman’s and lifting it up to lay on Virgil’s chest.

“Hang on if you need to,” he murmurs gently, “just hold onto me. I won’t go anywhere.”

Roman blindly scrabbles for a hold, almost scratching Virgil with blunt fingertips as he tries to grab on.

“There you go,” Virgil soothes as Roman finally gets a grip, “you got me, okay? You got me. I got you. We’re not going anywhere.”

“V-Virgil—“

“Yeah, Princey, there you go. I gotcha.”

Virgil’s here. Virgil’s here. Virgil won’t leave. Virgil cares.

As Roman drifts back into a pleasant state of drowsiness, he thinks he might really care too.

+1.

“Uh, hey Roman?”

Roman looks up as he slides into bed beside Virgil. “What’s up, shadow-ling?”

Virgil fiddles with the loose threads on the edge of the pillowcase. “Just, uh, just wanted to say…thanks for doing this.”

“Doing what? Saving you the last good seat for movie night? You just gotta get me next time.”

“No, no—well, wait, yeah, actually, thanks for that too.”

“Come on, I know how much you hate it when Patton and Janus take up the whole couch.”

“…they do take up a lot of space.”

“Right?” Roman chuckles as they nestle under the blankets. “So yeah, no problem. Just do me the same favor if they decide to expand to the other half of the couch.”

“I will, I will, but, uh, that’s not what I asked you for. I—I mean—that’s not what I wanted to thank you for.”

Roman stills, looking at him in the dark. “Oh. Then what is it?”

“I…uh…wanted to thank you for this.”

“‘This?’”

Virgil gestures between them, lightly thumping the bed with his fist. “This.”

Roman’s eyes widen in understanding. “Oh. No problem, Virgil, seriously. I, um, I should thank you too.”

“This was my idea, Roman—“

“Well, alright, you don’t have to take all the credit like that.”

“What? No, no, I just meant—“ Virgil pauses when he catches Roman snickering into his fist. “You bitch, you did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.”

“Stop being a dick while I’m trying to be sincere!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Roman bites off the rest of his giggles and reaches out to nudge him. “Really, you’re welcome, Virgil. I’ve been sleeping better too.”

Virgil nods, eyes darting away to avoid his gaze. Roman frowns, reaching out.

“Hey, you okay?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Virgil.”

Virgil sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I just—I…I wanted to say that I, um…I mean, it’s…this has been…”

Roman makes an ‘ah’ sound as a part of his chest grows warmer. “I love you too.”

Virgil’s head jerks up. “What? Who said that? I don’t—what are you talking about, I—“

“So you don’t love me?”

“I didn’t say that, I—hey!”

Roman bursts out laughing, head thrown back as Virgil’s ears redden. When he notices the pout and how Virgil starts to shift uncomfortably away from him, he relents, reaching out and gathering the poor shadow-ling into his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “that was really mean, I’ll stop, I’m sorry.”

“Mean,” Virgil repeats, shoving his chest, “mean.”

He kisses his forehead lightly. “I know, I’m sorry. I won’t tease. And I meant it, I love you too.”

Virgil looks up at him warily, softening a bit as Roman smiles gently. “…how did…?”

“Did you forget I’m Romance too?” He pats Virgil’s chest lightly. “I can feel it, shadow-ling.”

“H-how long?”

“…since I woke you up and you called me a space-heater?”

“Y-you knew?”

“Well,” Roman mumbles, his own cheeks reddening, “I might’ve figured it out sooner if I…”

“If you what?”

“If I could tell which one was mine and which one was yours.”

Now it’s Virgil’s turn to smirk and get in Roman’s face. “Aww, how cute.”

“Virgil!”

“What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

“Alright, shaddup,” Roman mumbles, pressing another smacking kiss to his forehead, “let’s try and sleep, shall we?”

“Sure, if you can sleep with all that blush.”

Roman quirks an eyebrow. “That is not a fight you’ll win, shadow-ling. Best to quit while you’re ahead.”

“Okay, okay, you don’t need to threaten me.”

They don’t have nightmares that night either.

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poisonedapples · 3 years ago

Text

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter 2

Craft Projects and Failed Bonding

Chapter Summary: Roman plots against Patton in a way he thinks is threatening.

Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Panic, anxiety, implied past abuse, food mentions, and anxiety over being watched by cameras.

Word Count: 4,533

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22

Notes: Thanks to cornybird on Ao3 for helping me beta this one!

“Virgil, wake up, it’s time for breakfast!”

Roman cracked open his eyes to stare at the door. His security bar was still under the doorknob, and it sounded like Patton walked away to knock on the next kid's door, so Roman slowly lifted himself out of Virgil’s bed once the coast was clear. He hadn’t been asleep for the last two hours, so there was no point to continue lying down and risk Patton trying to get into the room to wake him up. So Roman rubbed his tired eyes to undo the security bar and put it in his backpack.

Though, speaking of his backpack…he had no idea where to put it. It wasn’t safe in Virgil’s room, but Virgil was still sleeping in Roman’s bedroom. He could take it downstairs with him, but that’s a strange thing to do during breakfast, and he didn’t want that to be the conversation opener of the day. Especially if they asked him what was inside. They weren’t allowed to know that.

Eventually, Roman settled on hiding the backpack underneath Virgil’s bed. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it’d work until Roman could come back and take it. He opened the door and headed downstairs, praying that he wouldn’t be the first kid to arrive.

The prayer wasn’t enough, because Roman looked around the kitchen and only saw Patton at the stove. Patton looked over at him and seemed confused, trying to hide it behind a chipper smile. “Morning, kiddo! How’d you get dressed so fast? I only knocked on your door a second ago!”

Don’t let him find out you weren’t in your room. “Oh, these are my pajamas, I haven’t gotten dressed yet. And I was already awake, so I just came right downstairs.”

Patton looked Roman up and down, and Roman shivered. “…Do you not have real pajamas, kiddo?”

“No. I like sweatpants better.”

Patton didn’t seem pleased, but he didn’t question it further. Roman sat down at the table and anxiously drummed his fingers while he waited. Eventually, Logan came downstairs fully dressed with his hair brushed, and Virgil followed not long after. His hair was a mess, and his pajamas were twisted like he just fell out of bed and rolled down the stairs to make it in time.

Patton took one look at him and almost gasped. “Virgil, did you sleep last night? You look…a bit rough, to put it lightly.”

Virgil grunted. “I had to clean.”

Patton sighed. “Kiddo, save cleaning for the morning, okay?”

Virgil shrugged, groggily making his way to the coffee machine to try and steal some Patton already made for himself. “Virgil,” Patton chastised, “No coffee. You can go back to sleep after breakfast if you want, but you’re too young for coffee.”

Logan raised his hand. “May I have some?”

“No.”

“Darn.”

“What kinda drink do you want, Roman?” Patton asked. “And don’t say coffee.”

Coffee sounded really nice, actually, but there was no use arguing. “I’ll take milk, then.”

Patton finished emptying the contents of his pan onto some plates before grabbing three cups from the cupboard and filling them up. Two had milk while one had orange juice, and he passed them to each seat at the table. He then passed everybody their plates, with scrambled eggs and a bagel with cream cheese. Roman took his fork and tasted a bite of the eggs.

Holy fuck, Roman hadn’t had something that tasty since his grandma last cooked for him. The eggs were so soft and cheesy, and Roman could barely contain his excitement for it. He put as many eggs as he could fit onto his fork and stuffed it all in his mouth.

Patton laughed when he noticed Roman’s reaction. “Taste good, kiddo?”

Roman hummed, and Patton smiled. “Good! I learned how to make them from my roommate in college, and I haven’t looked back since!”

Roman hoped that roommate taught him how to make a lot more things then, because this was heavenly. He’d finished his entire plate of eggs so fast it was concerning, forgetting all ability to savor his food. Maybe Roman could find the recipe and steal it when Patton wasn’t looking.

Until then, Roman moved on to eating his bagel while everyone else wasn’t even close to finishing breakfast. He guessed that was a good thing. If he finished before everyone else, he could run to Virgil’s room and grab his backpack without anyone noticing. Roman chewed faster at the possibility.

Once again, the table went very silent as everyone ate and Roman tried to make a swift escape. Patton was the one to break the silence this time. “So, Roman,” he said, “How about you and I go to the store today?”

Roman froze. “…Why?”

“I’m sure there’s some stuff you need. School starts again in two days, so we need to get you some school supplies, and maybe we can get some stuff to decorate your room with too!”

“Wait, school starts in two days? I thought it started in two weeks!”

Patton seemed apologetic. “In this district, the first day is this Wednesday. Usually I’d let you stay at home a little longer to get comfortable before school, but I think it’d be easier for you to start the first day when you have the chance. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone for another week.”

You should leave me here alone, Roman thought. He was a little disappointed he had to go to school sooner than usual, but school was also the best excuse to leave home early and come back late. If he could get involved again in theater, he could hide out and blame his late return times on rehearsals. So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

Patton interrupted Roman’s internal scheming. “Do you know what kinda supplies you might need, kiddo?”

Roman twirled his cup in his hand and watched the milk spin. “Binders, pencils, folders, notebooks…I only have a backpack, really.”

“We definitely need to stop by the store then! And while we’re there, we can look at all the bedroom stuff too!”

Everything in Roman made him want to decline, to tell Patton to buy him whatever and he’ll make do with what he has. His heart started to pound again, his hand gripping hard on his cup and thinking about his escape options. Then it dawned on him.

They would be going to a store. A store, full of cashiers and moms with kids and plenty of parents who might also need school supplies. If there was anywhere he could be safe while alone with Patton, it was there. And maybe if he agreed, Patton would leave him alone for a while…

“…We can go.” Roman said. Patton’s grin widened and his eyes lit up.

“Great! So, just get ready once you finish breakfast, and we can head out! Logan, you’ll be in charge while Virgil takes a nap.”

Logan nodded, and Virgil almost fell asleep on top of his plate.

Eventually, everyone finished breakfast and put their dishes away, Virgil dragging himself back upstairs and falling into bed without even closing his door. Roman carefully entered his bedroom, darting his eyes between where he hid his backpack and where Virgil was lying.

“What.” Virgil snapped, mumbling it into his pillow. Roman stopped in his tracks.

“I only need to grab my bag, then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fuggin’ take it.” Virgil snapped.

Roman grabbed his backpack and scurried out of there, closing the door behind him. It uneased Roman to try to sleep with the door open, so he assumed someone as secluded as Virgil might be the same. It was a little way to show his gratitude for last night.

Roman walked back to his own bedroom after grabbing his backpack. However, once Roman opened the door, he finally understood what Virgil meant by “cleaning”.

The mess Roman made last night was completely gone. The bed was made, the hangers were placed back in the closet, the lightbulb was back in the lamp and the nightstand had been set back up. It was almost like last night was a bad dream that never happened, Roman’s only evidence that it had being the fact that he woke up in Virgil’s room that morning. He looked around the room again to process the change, when he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand.

Roman picked up the piece of paper and unraveled it.

There’s no cameras in here, I checked. I also fixed your mental breakdown for you. You owe me one.

Virgil

Roman looked around the room, holding the paper tight to his chest as he examined every corner. There wasn’t a single camera in here? Not one? No, no that wasn’t possible. The camera was around here somewhere. Roman knew it.

He looked around again, three times, looking under objects and in the closet, feeling the pit in his stomach grow when all his searches came back futile. He knew it was here somewhere, and he refused to let Patton win. Roman would find it.

He’d just…have to find some other place to sleep until then.

Roman shook his head as a way to erase his thoughts. He could worry about the camera later, but for now, he needed to please Patton’s attempt at getting to know him and get out of this cursed room. Roman still wrapped a blanket around himself as he got dressed, not quite able to shake his anxiety long enough to not take precautions. He changed from his pajamas to a red shirt and baggy jeans, and ran out to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Camera or not, he’d have to find a way to pay Virgil back.

***

“Roman, what’s your favorite color?”

Roman snapped out of his distant stare to look at Patton. He was looking at a display of school binders, pausing for a moment to glance at Roman and wait for an answer. The stare was so much for Roman to process that he took a step back. “Uh…red.”

“Perfect! They’ve got lots of reds!” Patton grabbed a red binder before stopping himself with a thinking expression on his face. “Though, wait, let me check the supplies website…I don’t wanna get a wrong size, or only get one when you need multiple…”

Roman went back to staring at the floor under him. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. It seemed like a great idea at first, but now Roman was here holding himself tight and trying not to cry, feeling the exhaustion set in while his anxiety made him restless. He wanted to go home and sleep, but there was nowhere to sleep. Nowhere to hide.

He’d have to search the house for hiding spots later.

“So,” Patton eventually said, “It doesn’t say exactly, so I’ll just grab a zipper binder and one two inch just in case. If you need more, I can always stop by again and buy some. What’s your second favorite color?”

Roman swallowed to fight back the tears. “Purple.”

Patton smiled. “That’s Virgil’s favorite color! So, one red zipper binder and a purple two inch. So let’s look at the pencil cases now!” Patton caught a glimpse of Roman’s pale face and his smile dropped. “…Are you okay, kiddo?”

Roman nodded. He didn’t trust himself to talk, but it seemed like Patton didn’t trust his answer. He took a step toward Roman, and Roman took two steps back. Patton frowned. “Are you sure?”

Roman nodded again. Patton ran a hand through his hair and looked around the store. Please, let’s just get this over with already.

Patton’s head stopped as his eye caught sight of a specific aisle, and he smiled in Roman’s direction. “Say, kiddo, how about you go check out the fish? I’ll be over here getting the boring stuff if you need me!”

Roman glanced at Patton’s eyes. They were soft and forgiving, but all Roman could feel when looking at them was fear. He took this as his moment, spinning around on his heel and almost sprinting toward the fish aisle. Anywhere was better than being near Patton.

Roman looked at the walls of fish tanks with fish of all kinds of colors, watching them swim around as the filter’s bubbles reached the roof. There were some that were swimming around each other, and others that stopped in place for long periods of time. Roman held himself and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

It was more peaceful away from Patton, at least. Roman felt a little less sick and his hands weren’t shaking as badly, focusing on the fish to calm himself down. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it worked. That’s all Roman could really ask for.

He watched the fish swim around and read their species facts for a while, until he couldn’t feel tears in his eyes anymore and the nausea was tamed. Roman walked through the aisle to look at the fish tank decorations and other pet toys. He picked up a chew toy for a dog and squeaked it, awkwardly messing with the toys and trying to keep Patton in his peripheral vision. It felt odd to be standing around in a pet aisle with no plans of buying anything.

Well, Roman thought, Patton never told me I had to stay in this aisle. It was only a suggestion. I could move on to another part of the store.

Roman looked at where Patton was one more time so he could remember his spot. It seemed like he was checking the supply list on his phone and thinking hard about colored pencils, and Roman hoped he would be occupied with that for a while more. He walked out of the aisle and looked above him for ideas on where he should go next.

Bathroom, no. The bakery would be wonderful if I could buy a donut myself. Clothes, baby items, plants…wait! Roman’s eyes lit up as he read another one of the signs. Hardware!

Roman always loved searching through hardware. He was a craft person at heart, and the aisles always gave him ideas for new things to try and make. Besides, Patton told him they were going to look for decorations for his room, maybe he could get inspiration there!

Roman entered the hardware aisle and began to look around. Because this wasn’t a hardware store there wasn’t much, mostly small items like door hinges and hook sets. There was also a doorknob you could only open with a code that Roman wanted, but there was no way Patton would let him install that. But maybe he could find something else to make his room safer.

Roman passed some other items, including some lightbulbs and a security camera displaying the screen that made Roman shiver when he passed by, but eventually Roman saw it. Ideas swarmed in his head and a big grin bloomed onto his face. It was perfect!

“There you are, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the sound of Patton approaching, looking up to see him with a basket full of school supplies. Patton smiled to hide the worry in his eyes. “I noticed you left the other aisle and I didn’t know where to find you.”

Roman gripped harder onto the box he was holding. “Sorry, I got bored…but I found something I want for my room!”

“You did? What is it, kiddo?”

Roman held up the box to Patton. Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “…Curtain rods?”

“Yes! Sounds strange, I know, but I was thinking that I could make my own canopy bed with them! We could get some curtains and I could hang them up around the bed, and I could decorate the curtains to look beautiful! Please?”

Patton rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t know, kiddo…it sounds like a cool project! But you’d have to install them into the roof, and I’m not very good with a drill!”

“I can do it!” Roman begged, “I’ve installed lots of home stuff before, and I’m really good with tools! And if I mess up I promise I’ll fix any holes, or I’ll do some babysitting jobs to pay back anything that’s broken, just…please? Can I try?”

Patton seemed conflicted. He saw the desperate look in Roman’s eyes and sighed. “…You can try, kiddo. Just…don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work, okay?”

“I won’t be! Promise!” Roman grabbed three boxes of the largest curtain rods they had and tried to hold them under his arms. “Now, I just need some red curtains, and maybe some glittery star stickers, or some other craft supplies! And a hot glue gun, you can make beautiful raindrop decorations out of hot glue!”

Patton seemed like his head was spinning. “I’ll go get an actual cart for this, kiddo.”

And then, the hunt for supplies was on. Patton got a cart for Roman to pile the curtain rods on the bottom, failing to keep up with him as he ran from aisle to aisle searching for supplies for his ideas. All the curtains were too transparent for Roman’s liking, so he instead settled for a pack of red, flat sheets meant for a queen bed and a small pack of sewing supplies. Patton mentioned he had a glue gun at home, so Roman skipped that section of the crafts aisle and instead focused on some birthday decorations with crowns and stars as well as some stickers. The more Roman’s vision came into action, the more excited and bouncy he got.

With the opaque curtains, Roman thought, it doesn’t matter if he has a camera in my room or not. He won’t be able to see me sleep. And how cute, he won’t realize his mistake in letting me do this until it’s too late.

Roman was jumping on his heels at the thought. I’m a genius.

The checkout was long and the car ride was full of anticipation, but once Patton pulled into the driveway of the house, Roman opened the trunk and ran inside with all his items in tow. He didn’t even say hello as he ran past Virgil and Logan on the couch to head upstairs.

“Kiddo, do you want to organize supplies too?” Patton yelled once he entered the house.

“I will later!” Roman answered. He had work to do.

The first step was an experiment of patience. Roman took out all the flat sheets and folded them at the top, sewing the fold with a needle and red thread to make its own custom loop for the curtain rod. It was annoying and tedious, but necessary. Also a test on Roman’s skill of how fast he could hand sew.

He was almost done with the last sheet when a knock came to his door. “Who is it?” Roman asked.

“It’s lunch time, kiddo,” Patton answered, “I called you down a while ago. How about you take a break for some food?”

No. There was no time for breaks. Roman needed this to be done by tonight so he could finally get some sleep. “In a minute.”

“Roman, it’s been a while already. A little break won’t hurt.”

“I will in a minute!” It was a lie, but Roman had the door locked, so there was nothing Patton could do about it. Roman finished his final seam, so now it was onto installing the rods.

Roman was measuring where to put the hooks on the roof when another knock came to the door. Roman groaned like a spoiled brat. “I’m coming!”

“Roman, can you open the door?”

Roman froze. He just yelled at Patton, pushed his luck, now he had to open the door. Roman dropped the screw he was holding as his hands shaked. Shit, shit! “…Why?”

“I’ve got your lunch for you.”

Roman felt his throat close, but ignoring Patton would only make the situation worse. Roman dropped his hook and screws to open the door.

Patton was on the other side, smiling softly with a burrito on a plate and a glass of juice in his hands. “I had to reheat it, but maybe you can eat while you’re working.”

Roman dug his nails into his palm before taking the plate. “Thank you.”

“Can I come in?”

No. No, you can’t. You never can, ever. “…Sure.”

Roman scurried away from Patton to sit on his bed, drinking some of the juice and looking at what’s inside the burrito. Black beans, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, onions, and green peppers. Roman took a bite and tried to calm himself by focusing on the taste.

“You like it?”

Roman nodded. “Never had this before.”

“It’s a black bean burrito. I found the recipe a few years ago, and I make them pretty often. Especially for growing kiddos.” Patton sat on the floor next to the mess Roman had laid out. “What are you doing now for your canopy bed?”

“I was gonna screw in the curtain hooks to the roof. I’ve just been sewing the sheets for now, which is the hardest part. I might have to sew them again though, since the sheets are so big I might have to cut them. Especially since I want to do two curtains on each end to make it look pretty.”

“Sounds cool! Do you need any help?”

Roman seemed to be thinking. Maybe if I satisfy him, he won’t be angry. “Do you know how to sew?”

“I know how to repair tears. That’s it.”

Roman took another bite of his burrito and jumped off the bed, picking up one of the sheets to examine the size. He jumped on his bed and held it up to the roof, seeing how far it would stretch. The sheet was much longer than his bed, so it would be perfect. “Take the sheets, measure them, and cut them in half right down the middle. Then I can show you how to do a catch stitch to hem the seam. That will save me some time.”

“You’re very good at hand stuff!” Patton complimented. A shiver went up Roman’s spine.

“…Yes.”

From then on, the environment was very tense. The only sound between either of them was the drill going through the roof and the sound of scissors cutting. When Patton finished cutting, Roman showed him how to hem the seam, but it was quiet again after that. Roman kept his distance and made sure his front was always facing Patton just in case.

“I hope you don’t mind if this is a very messy sewing job, kiddo.” Patton joked.

Roman shrugged. “You won’t be able to see it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you gonna decorate the sheets once you’ve hung them up?”

“Yes, it’s easier that way. And I can plan it out.”

“Any reason why you chose crowns and stars?”

Roman paused long enough to drill another hook into the roof before setting the drill down to grab another hook. “I like crowns. And stars.”

“Logan loves stars.” Patton really hated silence, apparently. “I don’t know if the other kiddos showed you their rooms, but Logan’s is covered in space stuff. It was really fun to do, actually! Though, I made Logan paint the stars onto his own wall because he kept talking about how it should be accurate constellations, and I don’t know anything about stuff like that.”

“I’ve only seen Virgil’s room.”

“Oh, well, if Logan ever invites you in, know that he did lots of work for his constellation wall!”

Roman hummed and drilled the last hook into the roof. He took a curtain rod and placed it on the two hooks near the foot of his bed. “How many of the sheets have you finished?”

“Oh, I’m still on the first one. I’m learning though!”

Roman jumped off the bed to sit on the floor next to Patton, grabbing his own needle and thread to begin hemming the seam. Once he started sewing, Patton watched him with wide eyes. “You’re doing that very fast, kiddo!”

Roman shrugged. “I’ve done it a lot.”

“What do you usually sew for?”

“Clothes. To fix rips, mostly. My mom also taught me when I was younger.”

Patton seemed taken aback by his explanation. “Did…did you enjoy that time with your mom?”

“I enjoyed all my time with her.” Roman paused. “Well. Most times.”

Patton swallowed. “Most times?”

“Her and I were really close, if that’s what you're asking.” Roman’s hands sped up as he sewed. “She would take me to movies and theaters, and she taught me how to bake as good as her.”

Patton’s voice grew serious. “Well…I’m sorry for your loss, kiddo.”

“She’s not dead.”

“I’m still sorry you lost her.” Patton shook his head and focused more intently on his sewing. “But you said you can bake?”

Roman nodded. “I bake a lot, especially cake. I know how to make red velvet cake from scratch and it is lovely.”

“We should make some tomorrow, then!”

Roman tensed. “Maybe.”

Roman finished off the hem of his side and moved to cut another sheet, hemming both of their sides once he did so. The rest of the time was quiet, with Roman purposely refusing to spark conversation and Patton processing the little information Roman gave him. By the time Patton finished one end and half of another, Roman had finished all the rest and took Patton’s to quickly finish off. Roman laid them all across the floor and opened the packs of crafts he got.

“Well, kiddo, I gotta see about making dinner now.” Patton eventually said, “Tell me how the end project turns out, ‘kay?”

Roman nodded. Finally, he’s leaving. “Close the door when you leave.”

Patton smiled and closed the door on his way out. Roman focused entirely on decorating his new curtains, placing glittery stars and plastic crowns and using the hot glue gun to make crystals draping down the curtains. He repeated a similar pattern for each one, eventually hanging two on each side of the bed so they could open and close down the middle. Once the final project was finished, and the floor of his room was scattered in materials, Roman smiled wide in awe.

“Yes! I did it! I did it!” Roman jumped up and down from excitement, flopping onto his bed and closing the curtains from every side. The curtains were a bit too long and dragged too much along the floor, but he could fix that another day. For now, he’d been at it for hours, and his bed was finally a safe space.

Roman buried his face into his pillow, feeling himself relax as the exhaustion of a whole day with no sleep and debilitating anxiety finally caught up to him. He groggily checked for any cameras on the roof, but that was the only place he had to check for a camera that could see him. He was safe.

Roman crawled under the comforter and closed his eyes. It wasn’t more than five minutes of lying there before he fell asleep, curling into himself and relaxing. Finally, he slept peacefully.

Finally.

#ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #panic #implied past abuse #past abuse #food mention #royality #prinxiety #familial royality #familial prinxiety

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

you should make an o’darwin fic!! their dynamic is so cute :))) much love

I’ve never written anything for O’Darwin, but I love the dynamic Hazel hinted at in SW and it was a really fun exercise to figure out their characters for fanfic! SW and O’Darwin credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

Alex O’Hara was never one for hard and fast decisions. He preferred to take his time and find a compromise—maybe it was because he was an older sibling, or maybe he was just a fluke like that. Whatever the reason, it hadn’t caused too many problems in his life so far, and had in fact made his best decisions possible.

Two of those best decisions were lacing up their shoes as he gathered his coat from the closet by Pascal Dumais’ door, looking sleepy and content after a perfect night. He had been a bit hesitant to come for the dinner, at first—the Lions were a family in every sense of the word, and he didn’t want to infringe on that. It wasn’t until Finn gave him a call that boiled down to “come taste my boyfriend’s cooking or I’ll kick your ass” that he finally agreed.

Speaking of… Alex glanced around the house with his coat half-on, craning his neck to see into the kitchen. Remus was washing the dishes while the captain—Sirius, he reminded himself. Just Sirius—dried them in comfortable silence, and Talker and Noelle were chatting quietly by the entrance with Jackson Nadeau.

“Who’re you looking for?” Kasey asked, passing his scarf over with a kiss on the cheek.

“Finn. Have you seen him?”

“We were hanging out in the living room earlier…” Kasey bit his lip and tugged Natalie’s coat sleeve. “Babes, have you seen the cubs?”

She smiled. “They passed out on the couch. Knutty was dead on his feet after cooking.”

Alex kissed her forehead before shrugging his coat on the rest of the way. “Thanks, gorgeous. I’ll be right back.”

Most of the Lions had left around ten, and the Dumais kids had trouped to their rooms in various states of exhaustion after they fell asleep in the basement playroom after dinner. Olli Halla was still draped over an armchair by the fireplace, out cold and snoring softly.

Alex smiled when he saw the tangle of limbs on the couch; Leo was at the bottom of the pile with Logan on his chest, and Finn had wedged himself in the tiny gap to curl around both their sides. His hair flopped into his face, fluttering as he breathed slow and deep.

“Finn? Hey, buddy, I’m heading out,” Alex said, just above a whisper as he brushed the too-long bangs out of Finn’s eyes.

“Wazzat?” Finn mumbled, cracking a sleepy eye open. “Whaddya want?”

“Kase, Nat, and I are heading home for the night. I wanted to say goodbye first.”

Finn frowned. “You’ve got three more days here.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t want you to think I just ditched,” Alex laughed. “You need a haircut.”

“Hmmm. Maybe.” With a drowsy inhale, Finn reached up and squeezed his hand. “Drive safe. Love you. Thanks again for coming to the dinner, it meant a lot to Knutty.”

“I love you, too, Finnigan.”

“ ‘s not my name.”

Alex leaned down to kiss the top of his head. He loved playing hockey and couldn’t be prouder of his little brother for everything he had accomplished, but missing him never got easier. “See you tomorrow. Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” Finn yawned and snuggled back against his boys, dead asleep in a heartbeat.

Alex tiptoed out of the living room, whispering a final ‘thank you’ to Celeste and Dumo as he passed them in the doorway and stepped into the nighttime cold. Natalie tucked herself under his arm with a sigh, already drowsy from a long night; Kasey’s hand was steady on his hip as they headed down the sidewalk toward his car, keeping a careful eye out for black ice.

“I think we can call that a success,” Alex said as he buckled his seatbelt.

Kasey hummed in agreement, then reached over the console to lace their fingers together. “Thanks for coming with us. I know—I know you’re not here for a long time, and it was probably super awkward being around a different team, but it really made Nat happy and I love having you there with all the guys.”

“Hey.” Alex pulled his hand up to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to it, stifling a smile as Natalie made a sleepy noise in the backseat. “Kase, there is nowhere I would rather be than with you two. The Lions are your best friends, and I’m glad you want me around them.”

“Well, your little brother is one of them, so…”

They both laughed under their breath as Alex turned the car on. “At least he picked a boyfriend who can cook. I was always worried what he’d do if it was just him and Logan.”

“Fuck, that gumbo was incredible,” Kasey muttered, running a hand over his face. “I’m still so full, but I also want more.”

“I know, right?” Alex shook his head as he turned onto the main road. “We might have to boyfriend-poach one of these days. No offense, but I would trade you for a pot of that gumbo.”

“Jackass,” Kasey scoffed, giving his thigh a playful smack. “For your information, I would happily be traded if it meant learning Knutty’s secrets in the kitchen.”

“Finn might protest.”

“I’m still blond and still a goalie. Leo and I are basically the same person.”

Alex hummed. “On second thought, I’d miss my Blizzard too much. We can send Nat to pull some sneaky spy shit. Maybe she’ll wear her Black Widow costume again.”

“Oh, fuck, don’t say that,” Kasey groaned, leaning his head back. “I’m too tired to have those thoughts.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t help with missing her, either. I guess we’ll just have to suck it up and ask nicely, like grown ups.” He mimed gagging and Kasey snickered, covering his mouth with his hand to avoid waking Natalie. They drove the rest of the way in silence; Kasey dozed off twice in the twenty minutes it took to reach their apartment and Alex did his best to keep from getting distracted by thoughts of their warm, soft bed.

The streetlamp above their parking spot flickered through the casing of ice and he made a mental note to remind them to ask their landlord about it in the morning. Parking in the dark without a guide was dangerous, and he knew he would worry if it was still a problem when he went back to Florida.

Florida, where it was burning hot even in February. Florida, where his team lived and worked and played. Florida, where he didn’t have Kasey and Nat.

Alex exhaled slowly and unbuckled his seatbelt, rolling his shoulders out. “You okay?” Kasey asked softly.

“I missed you both so much.”

“We missed you, too.” There was a rustle as Natalie sat up, and then warm arms wrapped around his chest from behind. “But you’re here now, and we’ve got a few more days to cuddle, so let’s get out of this car and go to bed before my neck cramps.”

He turned his head for a kiss and felt his stomach go all tingly when her soft lips pressed against his, pliant with sleep but as confident as ever. “Good plan.”

Nobody else was up and moving on their floor, despite the fact that it was barely past midnight on a Saturday. Kasey pushed open the door with a quiet creak and turned the lights on, half-blinding all three of them as they pulled their winter gear off and hung it on the wall hooks.

Alex brushed his teeth in a daze, tossing his clothes in the hamper with barely half a thought before slipping into his flannel pajama pants and stretching out under the covers. He dragged Natalie under like an octopus, which made her laugh, then flailed a hand around until Kasey curled up against his back in a solid wall.

“G’night,” he murmured as his eyes fell shut. Gentle kisses pressed against the top notch of his spine and the back of his wrist.

“Goodnight.”

“Night, loves.”

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jungle321jungle · 4 years ago

Text

Slither Into My Heart (Gorgon AU): Part Seven

Deceit didn’t bother to knock as he slammed the door open and glared down to wear Remus sat on his bed polishing his morning star.

“What did you do?” Deceit hissed.

Remus gave him a large smile as he looked him up or down, “Do you have the snakes just up there or are they down below too?”

If asked by Patton later, Deceit most definitely did not try to strangle the other side in that moment. Not all.

Also known as: Deceit is turned into a Gorgon. And the new annoying little snakes on his head seem to have an annoying obsession with Virgil.

Ao3 - Masterlist

Part One

Part Seven

Dee wasn’t sure he had ever moved faster, but just like that he was in his room slamming the door and standing behind it. His initial instinct upon hearing Logan’s words was to throttle the other side- but then he had seen Virgil’s embarrassed- Virgil’s blushing face and he had run- he had sprinted.

His face felt hot, and his heart drumming in his ears was drowning out whatever the hell the snakes were saying. God why the hell had Logan even fucking dared. That wasn't his place! When he got the courage to leave his room he was going to-

“Dee?”

Virgil’s voice may have well been ice in Dee’s veins the way he froze. But he also didn't respond, so a knock sounded at the door. “Dee?” he asked again. “Um, I... um... I yelled at Logan for you. Um, and about um...” He heard as Virgil gave a cough. “If you want to talk then yeah. If not I’ll just go.”

Bad Logan. Nice Vee. Vee not mad! Logan mean. Talk Vee. No talk Vee. Hide. Hide good. Talk good. Talk bad.

He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep- he wasn’t even sure he remembered dragging himself on his bed, but he did remember waking up. He was sitting up gasping for air, tears burning in his eyes. He swallowed trying to calm himself down but unable to he forced himself to get up and walk to the kitchen. He ignored the gazes of everyone who watched him pass in favor for filling a cup with water and downing it.

“Everything alright Deceit?” Patton asked slowly.

“Fine,” he breathed out refilling his cup.

“Talking may help, kiddo.”

“I don't-”

Talk. Talk good. Maybe help. No nightmares. Help. Talk.

He gave a sigh and after a pause he turned- taking in the fact that Patton, Logan and Remus (aka not Virgil) were sitting at the table before he joined them.

“Deceit,” Logan coughed awkwardly. “Firstly I’d like to apologize for earlier. It’s come to my attention that I shouldn't have overstepped my bounds.”

Dee shook his head, “I really don't want to talk about that right now.”

“What’s up with the snakes?” Remus asked leaning back in his chair. “Are the little devils refusing to be trained in dance?”

Dee didn’t even want to ask. So instead, he told the truth. “I... I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve been having nightmares about my snakes. I thought I had finally gotten used to them and then the shedding happened, and other things which just make it seem stranger and stranger but also forcing me to realize that I’m who I am now... a gorgon. But um... I can't help but wonder and worry about how far that goes...”

“What do you mean?” Logan pressed.

Dee gave a swallow before he let his eyes fall to the table, “I... I keep have nightmares about accidentally turning you all to stone.”

“That would be pretty sick, not gonna lie.” Dee’s head snapped up to see as Virgil walked in the kitchen. “Sorry, I’m not helping am I?”

“Oh! Maybe Remus can set rules for them,” Patton suggested. “He made the connection for Thomas after all.”

“I don't think so,” Logan mused. “The connection was initially made with him and medusa after all... the connection would need to be made with a different gorgon I assume. But that may threaten the snakes themselves.”

No like rules. Rules bad. Want stay. But stone bad! No stone! No want!

The conversation was continuing around him but his focus was primarily on Virgil. Because Virgil seemed to have been functioning as if yesterday had never happened. And Janus wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“Don’t worry Dee!” Patton said loudly while clapping him on the shoulder. “Remus will take care of it.”

Dee paused to look at Remus’ smile before he pushed the hand away and stood, “I don’t know how trusting Remus with anything is supposed to make me feel better. I’m going back to my room.”

~~~~

He slept in short bursts. Falling asleep for five minutes awake for ten, and then asleep for ten and awake for five. It wasn’t anything more than exhausting, but it was how Dee was apparently going to spend the day. He had resigned himself to that. And it seemed the snakes agreed. Their usual buzzing conversations were at a minimum or nonexistent all together. Rather they seemed to be just as exhausted and out of it as he was.

Dee held in a sigh. He wished he could bring them some peace at least. His nightmares were about them turning people to stone after all, there was no way they were in a good place. But he wasn’t sure what to say. Unsure what else to do he reached a hand up to his head and felt as the snakes moved to rub against his hand.

Hand warm. Pets! Want pets. Hand warm. Hand keep.

Dee gave a slight chuckle despite himself, “You can’t keep my hand. If you’re cold just say so.”

Cold. Not cold. Yes cold!

Dee rolled his eyes as he slowly sat up, “Do you guys want me to lay on a blanket or do you want to be in a hat?”

Their answer however wasn’t heard as a soft knock sounded on his door. But when he didn’t respond it came again, this time with Virgil’s voice. “Dee? Can I come in?”

Dee gave a sigh, as if he could say no, but to avoid looking Virgil in the eye he moved to the closet to find an extra blanket. “Sure.”

He heard the door open slowly followed by the sound of unsure footsteps and the door closing.

There! Blanket. Cozy! Warm. Want cozy!

“There’s only one blanket in here I can figure it out without the peanut gallery.”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Virgil said from behind him.

Dee took a deep breath as he grabbed the blanket and turned around. Virgil was standing in his doorway looking around as if he had never been in the room before. But more interestingly he had something behind his back.

“What did you need?” He asked awkwardly as he wrapped the blanket around his head.

“Um... I-I had an idea to help with your nightmares,” Virgil started his gaze now firmly fixed on the floor. “But it’s a bit childish.”

“What do you mean?”

Virgil gave an awkward swallow before he pulled something from behind his back and held it out. But quite frankly Dee had no clue what it was. It seemed to be a large hamster pillow with a long nose like an elephant.

“It’s a baku,” Virgil explained. “Its um a Japanese mythological creature that’s supposed to eat bad dreams. I um, I’ve had it for a long time and maybe it sounds childish and cheesy but um... if there’s a small chance it could help? And if it doesn’t if it helps we are part of Thomas so I don’t think you can turn us to stone. But I guess there’s still a chance- but I’m not scared um... just- just take the baku if you want. Not that you have to of course.”

Dee paused before he took the pillow, “Thank...thank you.”

Virgil gave a sharp nod as he turned away. “When you’re feeling better I, I wanted to talk to you about something else so um. Good night.”

“Night.”

As Virgil left Dee laid down and held the pillow in hands as he examined it. As he did so he couldn’t exactly stop the slight blush on his cheeks.

~~~~

“Dee! You’re not dead!”

“Obviously I’m not dead.”

“It’s been almost two days!” Patton protested squeezing him tighter.

“I was sleeping,” Dee told him, pushing him away. “And now I’m hungry.”

“You slept well then?” Virgil asked.

“Yeah... thanks.”

Thank Vee! Yay vee! No bad sleep!

“No problem.”

Dee made himself a plate and sat down at the table, “So um... you wanted to talk about something?”

Virgil gave a nod, “Yeah. Um... firstly, Patton can you uh?”

Patton cocked his head slightly in confusion before he seemed to understand and nodded quickly, “Oh uh I’ll be right back! I just remembered I have to... to uh... uh... make the bed!”

When he had left Virgil gave a soft sigh, “So um, about the other day. And what Logan said...”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no!

Dee felt his face heat up and he was standing before he knew he was, “We can just pretend that never happened! Let’s just go back to normal, okay?”

Virgil’s head fell so his face couldn’t be seen. “But I... I don’t want to.”

“W-what?”

Virgil’s head lifted up slightly and Dee’s heart skipped a beat at the blush on the other side’s face. “I... Shit you’re really gonna make me say it? I... I like you Dee...”

For one of the first times in his existence, Dee was speechless. Truly speechless. Even the snakes were silent.

Virgil was giving him a slight glare, “Say something!”

“When’s the wedding?” Roman called from the next room.

“Fuck off!” Dee and Virgil yelled back as one.

As Roman cackled Dee sunk back into his seat and looked across from him at Virgil. “I like you too.”

Virgil gave a slight laugh, “Yeah I already figured that out.”

“Right...”

A weight fell from his shoulders, and Dee couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief.

Yes. Yes. Vee! Vee like! Vee like!

Yeah... Virgil liked him. It didn’t really make sense that Virgil did, but Dee wouldn’t exactly complain. “I don’t really know what happens now,” he admitted.

Virgil gave a shrug, “Me neither.”

Before Dee could respond, Roman walked in the room his eyes sparkling, “If you guys are looking for date ideas then I have a whole list that we can test before we send Thomas on one.”

“We just-”

“It’s in my room I’ll be right back!”

Ooo. Date! Need fancy clothes. Dates fun? Yes, fun! Spend time with Vee!

Dee rolled his eyes, “Want to move into the living room? I feel like this is gonna take awhile.”

“Or, we could always just go elsewhere before he comes back.”

“Anywhere in mind?”

“I found it!” Roman’s voice called.

“Does it matter?” Virgil asked heading into the hall.

Dee didn’t answer, rather he grabbed Virgil’s hand and reveled in Virgil’s blush as he let himself be pulled down the hall to who knows where. Because it didn’t matter where they were going, because if Virgil was going to he knew he'd be happy.

~~The End~~

Thanks for sticking around!

#this fic was meant to be crack wtf happened #Gorgon AU #gorgon!deceit #Janus Sanders #anxceit #virgil sanders #shameless anxceit

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rhyrhy462 · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepover (G.D.)

Pairing: grayson dolan x best friend!reader

Warnings: bad writing, pining, one swear word, semi-sappines, self-indulgent because of the big mouth thing and the snacks

gif by @pinof

Everyone knew that Grayson Dolan went to bed early. It never failed that he was turning his phone off and putting it on his nightstand at midnight.

His best friend, Y/N, was a night owl. She went to bed at 3 in the morning most of the time.

Grayson and Y/N tried to squeeze in sleepovers whenever they could. These usually happened on Friday nights and consisted of, in no particular order, eating dinner, watching a movie, begging Grayson to take you to a grocery store to buy snacks, listening to music, begging Grayson to get you ice cream, and sleeping.

So just like all the other Friday nights, Y/N knocked on Grayson and Ethan’s door at exactly 6:53pm. She knows it’s a very specific time, but Grayson always has dinner ready by 7:05. So if she gets there at the perfect time, dinner will be ready and Grayson can’t yell at her for getting there too early when she complains about being hungry.

“It’s open, Y/N” Grayson yelled through the door, right as she was turning the knob and pushing the door in.

“I don’t even get a hello? I brought you homemade almond butter and everything!” If there was one thing Grayson loved in this world, it was Y/N’s homemade almond butter. He knew she just got the recipe online, but every time he tried to make it, it just didn’t turn out the right way.

“I’m sorry babe. Come give me a hug” Y/N felt her heart flutter when he called her ‘babe.’ Yeah, they called each other pet names all the time, but he said it so casually, almost as if she was his girl-

“Come gimme a hug.” Grayson pressed again, just as she started walking towards him.

She wrapped her arms around him, just as he wrapped one arm around her, still pushing around vegetables in a pan. “I missed you.”

Y/N and Grayson hadn’t had a sleepover in about a month and a half. They had both been busy. Whenever they did get to see each other, it’d be for an hour or so, but they never got to have fun with each other. “Missed you more.” Grayson replied, right as he was dumping the vegan stir-fry onto their plates.

“Looks good.” She said, as she started putting dishes in the dishwasher. If Y/N hated anything, it was having to do the dishes after she’s gotten comfortable. Lucky for her, Grayson had listened to her and started putting dishes in the dishwasher as he went along instead of having 30 dishes in the sink. She put the five dishes that had been left in the dishwasher, picked up her plate, and looked at Grayson questioningly. She was silently asking him if he was ready to go eat in his room.

“Let’s go.” Was all Grayson had to say to have her following him to his room.

Once they made it to Grayson’s room, Y/N plopped down onto his bed as he picked up the remote from his desk and tossed it to her. Every sleepover they alternated who got to choose what they watched. This time, it was Y/N’s turn. She turned his tv on and went straight to Netflix. Grayson had a feeling he knew what she was gonna pick. She threatened him with it all the time, but she did actually want to rewatch the show.

Grayson groaned as soon as he saw that she was hovering on Big Mouth. “What’s wrong with Big Mouth?” She genuinely wanted to know his answer.

“You’ve seen it at least ten times and you quote the whole show.” Grayson complained. He wasn’t wrong though. Y/N knew Big Mouth like the back of her hand. The reason why she watched it so many times was so she could directly quote the show. She already knew most of the iconic lines, but there were some she was still trying to learn.

“It’s my night to choose, babes. I hate to break it to ya, but I choose Big Mouth.” She said, just as she clicked on Season 1, Episode 2 ‘Everybody Bleeds.’ It was one of her favorite episodes because it was funny, but also because she knew the quotes. It was also the first episode Ladybug appeared in. If Y/N was honest, Ladybug was probably her favorite character. Ladybug was also the only character that she could completely quote.

With food in hand, she got as close to Grayson as humanly possible, just as he was draping a blanket over both of their legs. They ate while they exchanged jokes and talked about how’d they’d been, all while Y/N still managed to quote the best lines from Big Mouth.

They had finished eating a while ago. Now it was 9pm and Y/N wanted snacks. From their cuddled up position, she looked up at him, to see him looking at the screen. She smiled to herself because as much as he hated to admit it, Grayson thought Big Mouth was hilarious. “Gray?” She questioned, because yes, they had had dinner two hours ago, but she was ready for snacks.

He didn’t even have to look at her to know what she wanted. The first thing he did was look at his watch to confirm what time it was. It never failed. Around 9 o’clock, Y/N always wanted snacks. So he untangled himself from her and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. His eyes darting around the room trying to find something that Y/N is completely unaware of. “Grayson? What are you looking for? Where are you going?” She asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m looking for two hoodies. You want to go get snacks don’t you?” Grayson said, realizing that none of his hoodies were anywhere in his room and he’d have to go into his closet.

“You know me so well.” She said, grinning when Grayson came out of his closet, two hoodies in hand, and tossed one to her.

Right after she slipped it on, on top of her shirt, Grayson was asking her, “Ready?”

He didn’t even wait for her response, just started walking towards his bedroom door, to which she followed right behind him, all the way to the Porsche. After they got in the car, he turned to look at her and asked, “Where we goin’?”

“Target.” She responded, as he started backing out of the driveway. Y/N always, always, let Grayson choose the music. Grayson always said the driver got to choose the music, but she never put up a fight with anything he chose. Which is why when Grayson asked her to shuffle his Young Thug playlist, she did it. No questions asked, bobbing her head to the music, even rapping some of it, on their way to Target.

When they got there, Grayson parked in the closest parking space he could find. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but not too many. Even if Grayson hadn’t seen Y/N in a while, he always kept three masks in his car. One for himself, one for Ethan, and one for Y/N. They both put their masks on and started walking toward the entrance.

When they got inside, Y/N was grabbing Grayson’s hand and dragging him all the way to the snacks section. The first thing she grabbed was pretzels, one of her all time favorite snacks, but sometimes she forgets how much she likes them. She went on a search to find Nutella, which in the process, Grayson made a smart comment about it not being vegan. Then she grabbed two bags of Doritos, cool ranch and nacho cheese.

Immediately after she grabbed the Doritos, she thought about ice cream. Grayson was on this stupid health kick getting ready for this match with Logan, that doesn’t even have a date. Because of that, it had become 200 times harder to convince Grayson to get ice cream. He knew that if he was around Y/N when she was eating ice cream, he’d cave. Which is why right now, when he saw that look in Y/N’s eyes, he knew exactly what she wanted.

He didn’t even let her get it out, “No.”

“But I didn’t even-“

“Absolutely not. I’m trying to eat healthy.”

“You don’t have to have any. Just let me get some.” She pleaded.

“Y/N, no. Are you done?”

“Grayson, please?” She begged, giving him that look that she knew would make him say yes.

“Fuckin’ fine. Let’s go” Grayson said, giving in.

So they walked to the ice cream section. Y/N already knew what she was going to get. She picked up two jars of Talenti. She made sure to choose vegan flavors, so she chose Alphonso Mango and Roman Raspberry. Grayson groaned when he realized she chose vegan ice cream. “You want me to have some that bad?”

She just nodded and told him, “I’m ready to check out.”

They walked to self-checkout and put everything down. Grayson always let Y/N scan because it was one of her favorite things to do. She didn’t know why, it just made her happy. When she had scanned everything, she went to pull out her card. “Uh-uh.” This was a conversation they had all the time. Y/N could afford to buy her own snacks, but Grayson just wouldn’t allow it.

“Grayson, at most it’s 25 dollars. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I invited you over, so I should pay for it.”

“I asked for snacks, so I should pay for it.”

“Let me pay for it this time and then you can pay me back later.” Grayson only suggested that because he knew she never carried cash and he didn’t have cash app.

“Fine, but I get to buy them next time.”

“Ok, fine.” Grayson just shrugged his shoulders.

“Promise.” Y/N said, holding out her pinky.

“I promise.” Grayson said, as he linked their pinkies together rolling his eyes.

The ride back to Grayson’s house was smooth, but it felt long. So long, that Y/N tilted her head back and closed her eyes for what felt like 2 minutes. It actually ended up being a little under 30 because when she was opening her eyes, they were pulling into his driveway.

Grayson didn’t say anything about her falling asleep. Every chance he got, he’d glance over at the sleeping girl beside him. Right now, though, he was running over to open the car door for her and help her out. Every time she fell asleep in the car she was always disoriented for a few minutes after.

When they got back to his bedroom, spoons in hand because they stopped at the kitchen to get napkins and spoons, Grayson dropped the bag in the middle of the bed while Y/N crawled right back in his bed. As Grayson was climbing into bed, Y/N realized that it was a little after 11pm. She knew once Grayson had some ice cream, he’d be out like a light and she’d be up all alone, but she just wanted to live in the moment. Turning Big Mouth back on, they snuggled, both holding ice cream and a blanket thrown over them because Grayson knew Y/N got cold when she ate ice cream, but refused to admit it.

It was closing in on 12am and she saw Grayson trying to keep his eyes open and converse with her about any and everything. “Go to sleep, babe. I can stay up on my own.” She murmured to him as she went to reach for the remote to turn the tv off, so Grayson could sleep well.

Grayson grabbed the remote before she could and sat up a little bit straighter, “Don’t be silly. I want to stay up with you.”

“Babyyyy.” She said, absolutely oblivious to the fact that he was in love with her and would stay up all night with her if it meant getting to hang out with her.

“I love you, Y/N.” And he meant it with everything he had.

“I love you more, bub.” She responded, as Grayson pulled her even further into his chest.

tagging: @blindedbythelightt @333dolans @foxglovedolan

A/N: hi! if you read it, thank you!! this had no business being 2k words, but it’s my longest fic thus far. if you have feedback let me know. if you wanna be tagged, which idk why you would, but if you do lmk. this literally took like 3 hours to write becuase writers block 😭😭😭😭 anyway, this is so self-indulgent i- anyway, love you sm. peace ✌️

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins concept #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fic #grayson bailey dolan #rhyan writes

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liemonyellow · 3 years ago

Text

no salvation for me now

read on ao3

Summary: Janus isn't having a great day. The others help.

Ships: Platonic DRLAMP

Warnings: Mild swearing

Janus pulled the soft, plush blanket over his head, curling up into a tight ball in the middle of the pile of comforters and stuffed animals he called a bed.

Better. He supposed he could just turn off the AC, but it was too hot even for him, and he preferred covering up in the cold to having to cool himself down when the warmth became too unbearable. It wasn’t like he could crawl out of his own skin, as Remus often suggested.

A stray fabric tentacle from one of his many octopus plushies - all gifts from Remus, and all of which he adored, of course - was digging into his side, its lumpiness an unwelcome sensation keeping him awake when all he wanted was to fall asleep and not wake up for at least a week. The very thought made him want to punch his pillows again; he’d slept quite well the previous few days, so why was he still so fucking tired!?

He knew why.

He hated the reason.

Janus turned over on his other side, yanking the offending plush limb from underneath him and shoving it aside. Reaching for his phone, he checked the time. It was two in the afternoon and he had far too many notifications. Thank the lord for silent mode.

Peeking out from under his blanket, Janus saw strips of yellowish light streaming in through the gaps in his curtains. Normally, he’d be fine napping in broad daylight but right now he wanted darkness. He groaned, and his stomach growled with him.

His attempted nap was officially a lost cause. Dragging himself out of bed, Janus thrust his feet into his slippers and stood, stretching out his arms. He didn’t bother changing into his usual outfit and left his room for the first time that day, ignoring the quaint little color-coded post-it notes the others had left on his door wishing him a nice day or hoping he’d feel better soon or whatever. He was not in the mood for sympathy or socialization right now, even indirectly.

It was even cooler out in the main house, with the AC going full blast to combat the humid heat. The others didn’t have weird issues with temperature like Janus did, and he didn’t begrudge them for it. He could always put on more layers, after all, and the living room had been amassing a rather impressive array of blankets, throws, afghans, and other such sundries for a while now. The twins claimed it was for impromptu blanket fort construction and their subsequent blanket fort pillow wars, but Janus had yet to see any such happenings. It would only be a matter of time, knowing them, but so far Janus was the only one to make any use of the collection at all, and solely for their intended function as warming implements.

As expected, everyone else was in the living room, and they all looked up when he entered. He greeted them with a curt nod before heading straight for the kitchen. No one stopped him, or tried to talk to him. Janus wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He decided he preferred it over the alternative, for now.

Nothing looked appetizing, despite how hungry he was. But he had to eat, so he grabbed a couple slices of sandwich bread and toasted them. He slathered on the butter because fuck it, he wanted to, and scarfed them both down in what had to be less than a second. There. Fed.

Janus grabbed a clean cup from the clean cup cupboard and filled it halfway with water, then drained it in one go. Hydrated. What now?

He stood in the middle of the kitchen, not knowing what to do, for who knew how long. It wasn’t until he heard a small cough that he vacantly turned his head to see Patton giving him a nervous smile.

“Hey, Jan. Everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft. Patton stood just the slightest bit slouched over, either from trying to peek at Janus’ expression or to seem unthreatening. It didn’t really matter which.

Janus shrugged, his eyes returning to stare at the empty countertop.

“Can I touch you? Do you want a hug or something?”

Janus shrugged again, but didn’t jerk away from Patton’s light fingertips on his shoulder like he would have if he were truly averse. Nor did he lean into the touch, as he would have if he were having difficulty asking for it. He honestly just didn’t care.

“Is this okay?”

Janus didn’t feel like answering, but managed a nod. Patton’s hand came to rest fully on his shoulder.

“Why don’t we move into the living room? We can keep quiet if it helps.”

Janus dispassionately followed the guidance of Patton’s hand on his shoulder, staring at the floor as he dragged his feet across it and into the living room. He didn’t really see where he was going, trusting Patton to navigate him safely onto the sofa.

There was murmuring and soft chatter around him as Janus realized Patton had deposited him in the middle of the big couch, and that the others were giving him space to breathe. They were careful not to touch him too much or too firmly, moving slowly and deliberately so they wouldn’t startle him.

Virgil put a hand on his knee, squeezing it gently. Janus turned to look at him, getting a small, encouraging smile in exchange. Janus went back to staring at his knees.

Something soft was draped over his shoulders. Janus sat there, unmoving, as someone tugged it more tightly around him before coming around to sit down on his other side. Logan. He held another, folded-up blanket. He set it aside, in case Janus wanted it later, and held Janus’ hand.

Roman wrapped his arms around Janus’ shoulders from behind him, muttering something softly that Janus didn’t catch. He pressed a kiss into Janus’ hair, then slowly moved away to sit beside Logan, wrapping an arm around him to rest a warm hand on Janus’ shoulder.

It didn’t take long for Remus to get there, though if it did, Janus hardly noticed any time passing. He and Patton had brought them all refills. Janus hadn’t even noticed the untouched, now-tepid mug of hot cocoa set before him on the coffee table until just now, when Remus set another one down for him. Remus spun around to scoop Janus up - very gently, for Remus - and sat down in Janus’ spot, setting Janus down on his lap and cradling him.

After they saw that Janus wasn’t uncomfortable with the new situation, Roman started grumbling about the interruption, only settling down once he re-established contact with Janus. Patton had also somehow squeezed into the narrow space between Virgil and Remus, cuddling Remus’ side, a hand placed comfortingly in the crook of Janus’ elbow. Janus’ legs ended up laid across Patton and Virgil’s laps, and which Virgil immediately claimed with a repeated, soothing caress, though whether for Janus’ sake or because he liked the way the silky fabric felt was up for debate. Virgil would deny both either way, knowing Janus knew the truth.

Surrounded by the people who loved him most, Janus’ eyes drifted closed and he fell asleep, safe at last.

#sanders sides #my fics #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #Soft and Fluffy #well that's an ooc tag for me #vent fic #i felt an thing and projected onto janus as one does #i don't know what i was trying to do but here's the result #I Wrote This While Listening to Florence + the Machine #No beta we duck out like virgil #tags copied from ao3 because how do tag

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

if you’re still taking meet ugly asks, could you do 01 or 13 for sternclay? nsfw please

Here you go! I went with 1.

we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass.

Bzzbzz

Joseph picks up his phone and regrets it before he’s even done reading the waiting message.

Barclay: See, this is how you dress for a date at a casual place.

It’s accompanied by a photo of a headless torso, sporting a Ramones T-shirt and blue jeans.

He deletes the message. He told that asshole he was in the suit because Hayes kept him late to finish a report and he didn’t want to be any more behind for their date than he already was.

No, you know what, he’s had enough of this.

J.S: He’s dressed like a college student. No one told me you were a cradle robber.

Barclay: Just trying to help you do better next time ;)

This is the same line he gives Joseph every time he sends one of these texts

“It was great, it felt like a real conversation instead of an interrogation.”

“See, what made tonight nice was he didn’t look at his phone even once.”

“Now, what made this nice is that he didn’t mistake another guy for me on the way in.”

He has reasons, explanations, things that could make him look more like a man who had a bad day and less like the poster boy for the horrors of blind dating. But the one time he tried sharing his side of things, Barclay responded that he wasn’t doing this to make sense of their shitty date, but to make it easier on the next guy.

It was the last date in a long line of increasingly desperate attempts by his loved ones to find someone, anyone, for him to be with; being married to his work fills all his needs. Leave it to his older sister to spot that it wasn’t meeting many of his wants.

Joseph tosses the phone away, retrieves his take-out leftovers from the fridge. As he munches reheated green mango chicken, the city heading out into Friday night revelry without him, he decides that while he’s not about to take dating advice from a guy who can’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider someone else’s perspective, Barclay makes one good point: there’s always a next time.

And there’s no moment like the present to start planning for it.

--------------------------------------------------------

Barclay cannot figure out why Logan chose this spot; it’s one step above gay cruising club. Not that he hasn’t had fun at those before, but he was hoping for somewhere quieter. Also somewhere with better food; you can tell a lot about a guy by what he orders, and fuck all about him when the only meal to be found is chips or the olive from a martini glass.

Still not the worst date he’s been on.

As Logan steers the conversation in promisingly steamy directions, Barclay glances at the bar and locks eyes with his biggest disappointment of the year. Joseph raises an eyebrow, then his face goes annoyingly neutral as he looks first at Logan and then to the bartender for another glass.

His date excuses himself and Barclay weighs how much of a dick he wants to be against how good Joseph looks tonight. He’s in a v-neck and a short jacket, dark-wash jeans making it easy to picture how satisfying hooking his legs over Barclays shoulders would be.

Barclay sidles up to the bar, leaning on it and smiling at Joseph, “You finally decide to put my advice to good use?”

“No.” Joseph replies, tarter than a cherry, and goes back to looking at his phone.

“Suit yourself, and have fun going home alone.”

The black-haired man squares his shoulders, turns so that Barclay gets a full-on view of a stunning face and sharp, blue eyes, “At least I won’t be going home with someone who’s using me for a prank video.”

“Pfft, whatever man, you’re just-” Barclay snaps his mouth shut as Joseph turns his phone, showing a Youtube channel hosted by none other than Logan.

“His modus operandi is to have viewers vote on which gay man he should go out with and string along the whole night until he reveals he’s straight.”

“I, I uh, that’s” his heart is in his shoes, “that’s not very nice.”

“That’s not all. There are three cameras recording your date.” Joseph points to three separate guys, “they’re using their phones, makes it hard to prove they’re not just texting or something else innocuous.”

He might cry. Worse, if he cries, he might owe Joseph an explanation.

“There you are baby, thought you’d run off.” Logan sets a hand on his arm and Barclay freezes, trying to work out a non-humiliating form of escape.

Joseph clears his throat, “Are you aware that recording people without their permission is illegal in this state?”

“Uh, no, but what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“You, and those three gentleman you’re having film Mr. Cobb here, are all at risk of being charged with a misdemeanor.” Joseph’s voice is smooth and clear, utterly in control, and Barclay gets goosebumps as he pulls out his wallet and flashes an FBI badge, “I suggest you get out of here before you do something you regret.”

The quartet disappears in a cloud of body spray as Barclay slumps onto a stool and Joseph orders two more drinks, sliding one his way. Whiskey Soda, his favorite. He’d ordered it during their date.

They sip in silence for three songs before Joseph says, “I guess I passed the dubious honor of your worst date onto someone else.”

“You’re still a strong runner up.” It’s mean, but Barclay isn’t feeling very chipper right now.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad! I was trying to learn as much about you as I could while switching from work mode to a date.”

“You made me feel like I was doing all the work!”

“If you’d given me more than a half hour of your time I could have fixed that.”

“Nah, I know when a date is doomed. No point in dragging it out. It wasn’t going to be fun.”

“I can be fun!” Joseph knocks back the rest of his drink, “I’ll prove it.”

Barclay snorts, “how?”

“I want a do over. Right now.” Lights dance across his skin and Barclay gets a whiff of gin and mint as he leans so they’re almost nose to nose, “Unless you’re afraid you’ll be the dud this time.”

“You’re on.” Barclay growls, “but don’t get your hopes up.”

------------------------------------------------

Either his pillow sprouted fur overnight, or Joseph isn’t where he should be.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting in the muted, grey light sneaking in under the curtains. The room, while tidy, isn’t his, and the clock on the wall tells him he’s starting his Saturday out with oversleeping.

Barclay is sound asleep beside him, his broad, hairy chest rising and falling soothingly. A cursory peek under the blankets shows he’s a naked as Joseph is. As the agent slips from the bed and hunts down his clothes, he starts to remember why.

They’d done something in the club bathroom, a blow-job, that’s right, and the instant Barclay dragged him into his apartment Joseph shoved him onto the bed, yanked his pants off, and returned the favor. He remembers, as he surrenders to going commando rather than wear his pre-cum stained boxer briefs, wanting to sleep with his head on Barclay’s stomach, cum still on his lips, but the cook made a very convincing argument to come up and kiss him instead.

His pants are back on when his phone lights up from it’s spot on the floor.

Alert: Snowstorm predicted to last until 5 pm Sunday. Travel limited, recommended for emergencies only. At least five feet of snow predicted.

“Shit” he whispers, pushing the curtain aside to discover a world of smooth, white roof tops and impassable streets.

Jinglejingle

He spins, startled, as what he thought was a black pillow shakes out it’s ears and rises from a cushion at the foot of the bed. It’s the single most absurd dog he’s ever seen, like someone smushed a corgi and a Rottweiler together. It blinks at him, cocks it’s head, and then shifts its attention to the bed.

“Please don’t jump.” Maybe he can still sneak out on foot, or find somewhere else to wait out the storm.

The dog launches it’s tubular body onto Barclay, who “oofs” and is laughing before he even opens his eyes.

“Hey boy, yeah, I know, I know, didn’t let you in until way after bedtime.” The cooks deep voice is scratchy with sleep. The dog wiggles and digs at the blankets on his chest as he turns his head, smiling Joseph’s way, “morning babe.”

“Good morning.” Throwing himself out the window would result in hypothermia. Also a broken ankle. So no luck there.

Barclay notices his jeans, “Oh, uh, if you need to go that’s cool. I, uh” he yawns “I have a policy of making breakfast after a hook-up, but if you’re in a hurry I can just get you some coffee for the road. C’mon Sass, let me up.”

“I, um, I can stay. I don’t have much choice.”

“What do you--oh fuck, I knew we were getting snow this weekend but no one said anything about a fucking blizzard. Guess you’re crashing here for the weekend.”

“I guess so.”

Barclay’s smile shrinks, “Is that a shitty outcome?”

“No! Or, um, I just” Joseph sits on the bed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to impose. I was trying to get out of here so I wouldn’t make things awkward since I, um, I don’t do this much.”

“Gotta say that was kinda obvious.” It’s a gentle tease, Barclay’s fingers flipping through his phone, “huh, when did I take a video last night?”

“I think you--oh, oh my lord.” Joseph claps his hands over his mouth, blushing at the memory.

“What, did I talk you into karaoke or somethi--holy fuck.” Barclay scoots to where Joseph is frozen, holding the screen where they can both see it. The same face growing excited beside him is looking up at the camera, lips wrapped around Joseph’s cock as a voice urges him on.

“You like that, big guy?”

Barclay nods, pulls off so he can drag his tongue up the shaft with a grin. Then he swallows it almost to the base, Joseph’s hand flying past the lens to stifle a moan.

“That’s it, show me how much you like it, s-so the next time you feel like sending me a snarky text you can watch this and remember just how much fucking fun you had sucking my dickAH.” A laugh as Barclay sits back on his heels, pulling off the condom.

“C’mon blue eyes, bet, bet you’re gonna look great when you cum, fuck, think I ruined these pants just watching you. Heh, you like that, like getting me hard and wet on the fucking bathroom floor.”

“Usually it’s, it’s the other waAAaay aroundohfuck, shit.” Cum spatters across Barclay’s face. The cook licks his lips, still smiling, as the camera sinks to his level, Joseph giggling behind it, “here, let, let me clean you up.”

“Don’t want everyone else to see your cum all over me?"

“Nngn. I, I mean no, not in actuality.” Joseph’s hand returns to the frame, gently cleaning Barclay’s cheek with toilet paper.

The video ends there. Joseph is red from his hips to his cheeks, but not so embarrassed that he misses Barclay rubbing his thighs together. Then the cook meets his eyes and sets the phone aside.

“I can delete it. Know your face isn’t in it but if you’re more comfortable with it gone, it’s gone.”

The offer alone calms him, “No, no it’s okay. Thank you for offering. I, um, since I’ll be here awhile, can I use your shower?”

“Sure, it’s just through there.” He tips his head at the door in the left wall, grabbing a robe from the door and heading into the chilly apartment, Sass clickclick-ing on the hardwood after him.

As always, the world is more manageable when he’s clean. A pair of sweatpants and a thick, blue sweater are waiting for him on the bed, and coffee-swirled air coaxes him into the kitchen. It’s small but immaculately organized, Barclay moving from stove to cabinet to fridge and back again in an intimate dance.

“Coffee on the left is yours. I’m doing pancetta in the omelettes; most of my friends are vegetarian so I never get a chance to bust it out.”

“That sounds delicious.” He picks up the mug, sighs as warms his chest, “mmm, you have real cream somewhere in this house.”

“Yep. Remember you said you liked the real stuff when you could get it. I drink mine black, but really these beans demand cream instead of milk; sets of the chocolate notes really nice.”

“I can never taste those. Same thing with wine. But I guess that’s why you’re the professional and I’m not.”

“That’s more a happy coincidence. I got into this to help with the bills when I was in high school. I wasn’t, like, combining flavors and deciding to be a cook like in Ratatouille or something.”

“That’s a Pixar movie, right?”

“Only the best one ever made. Have you really not seen it?

“I, um, I only watch kids movies if I’m babysitting my niece. Which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”

“Well, now I know what we’re doing after breakfast. Ah ah, Sass, not for you.” He shoos the dog from where it’s valiantly trying to double in length to reach the table.

“Is his name short for something?”

“Sasquatch.”

“Awwww.” Joseph crouches down to scritch behind one, floppy ear.

“His whole litter was named for cryptids; Nessie, Champ, Yeti, stuff like that.”

“‘Bray’ feels like an obvious one.” He smiles, then remembers not everyone is a nerdy UP agent, “sorry, never mind.”

“Uh uh special agent, I’ve been waiting to ask you about this. You don’t get to say you’re ‘like Fox Mulder’ and then not share more.” Barclay pulls out his chair, kisses his head when he sits down. He then listens to Joseph expound on canine cryptids of the midwest for fifteen minutes, fascinated the entire time.

“Y’know, I had a line cook who swore he’d been abducted by aliens.”

“What was his proof?”

By the time their plates are clean, Joseph has generated three alternative explanations and Barclay is staring at him with an expression straight from a rom-com. The cook sets up the movie while Joseph does the dishes, then pulls him under a mound of blankets.

“The heat in this place is shit, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.”

He enjoys the movie plenty, the weight of Barclay’s arm over his shoulder and, eventually, his waist, even more. They watch Ramen Girl for the hell of it, spooning on the couch while the snow makes dunes out of the sidewalk.

When the second movie is done, Joseph rolls so he’s facing the cook, “What should we do now?”

“Could keep watching movies, or bake something. I’ve got some cards and a few games in the closet. Or we could just cuddle and talk. I’m good with whatever.”

“...Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ve been so sweet all day. Why were you such an ass about our first date?”

Barclay shifts, discomfort entering his eyes, “I was having a shitty week and was hoping the date would make me feel better. I ended up so anxious after it, felt like you wanted to be somewhere else, that I kinda took my frustration out by being a dick. I’m sorry. I, um, I wasn’t even on that many dates between now and then; I’d just text you what I’d wished had happened to fuck with you.”

“I should’ve known it; no one has that many good dates in a row.”

“Sorry.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way the first time. I had my reasons but, well, you still had a bad time because I was flustered and couldn’t get my mind off work.”

“Think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Can I try again anyway?” Joseph kisses him, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats.

Barclay’s lips curve up, “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

Once Barclay is comfortably naked atop the blankets (space heater pointed at the bed all the while), Joseph asks if he has any condoms.

“Yeah, bathroom cabinet. But I’m not, uh, I don’t-”

“It’s not for penetration. You said last night that was a no for you.” In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he watches him relax. If he ever finds out someone saw the tension in those muscles, heard the worry in that sweet, deep voice and pushed anyway, he’s going to set them on fire with his mind.

Barclay nestles his cheek on his pillow as Joseph fishes his swiss army knife from his jacket, puts his ass in the air and wiggles it expectantly as Joseph unrolls the cut latex.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh huh, I really love it when guys do this but, uh, it doesn’t happen much. The hair turns a lot of them off.”

“Cowards.” Joseph holds the makeshift dam in place. Barclay’s chuckle morphs into a moan as he presses his face between his asscheeks, tongue making an obscene sound against the latex. There’s a warmth to this angle that he loves, a tender sort of filthiness to the way Barclay pushes his ass back with little gasps of his name.

He doesn’t get to practice his technique often, but that makes it all the more pleasurable to re-acquaint himself with it now, find the ways of pressing and curving his tongue that make Barclay’s ass tense under his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, I take it all back, every rude text, you’re gonna drive every date you get crazy, gonna make them wonder how they got so lucky to get someone so goddamn wild.”

“I don’t think I will. I think” Joseph kisses the small of his back, “I think it’s you. You bring it out in me, you make me want to do all the things I’d be ashamed to ask for the rest of the time.”

Barclay whimpers happily.

“I’m serious. There’s something about you, I feel like I can want what I want without shame.” He nips his right cheek once, gently, “or maybe it’s just that what I really want is you and everything else finds into line because of it.”

“Fuuuck, baby, please.” Barclays weight shifts as Joseph eats him out ever more messily, “wanna, wanna make you feel good.” He’s rubbing his dick, Joseph can tell by the sound.

“May I?”

“Uhhuh, fuck, c’mere” Barclay grabs him as soon as they’re both sitting up, “was gonna pound you into next week but I dont wanna waste time with the harness right now.”

“Then we can do that tomorrowAH, ohlord” his hand stutters on it’s way to Barclay’s cock as calloused fingers circle is dick, “god there is not a part of you that disappoints, you’re just a wet dream from top to bottom.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay kisses his shoulder, groaning as Joseph thumbs his dick, “fuck, speaking of, you gonna tell me what you meant in the stall last night? About things being ‘the other way around.”

Now it’s his turn to hide his face, “Promise you won’t think I’m dirty?”

“Babe, your mouth was on my ass a minute ago. You’re dirty and I fucking love it.”

“I, um, I, when I travel for missions I look for, for places that have glory holes.”

“Oh fuck” Barclay ruts against his palm, “that’s a fucking amazing image blue eyes. You on your knees, trying to keep that fucking suit clean while a fucking parade of guys shove their dicks down your throat.”

“I, it’s an easy way for me to get off, I can edge myself until I’m done and then cum without anyone being the wise but, god, half the time I’d think about this, want this.” He speeds up his strokes, pumps his cock into Barclay’s fist.

“What, a hairy trans guy?” Barclay bumps their noses together.

“This” his free hand glides along Barclays arm where it’s holding him, “s-someone to see me, hold onto me, fuck the whole of me and not just the acceptable, easy part. But” he meets brown eyes, teases slick skin, “I, the other times I fucked someone like this it, it was like I was still in that fucking stall. Last night, today, I’m here, I want to be and I am.”

“Baby.” The word comes in a sweet rumble of understanding just as Joseph cums with a gasp. He holds on for dear life as Barclay joins their hands and guides his fingers along his dick, forces his mind to memorize the movements and shapes for next time.

Barclay cums with a groan, flinging his hands up to cup Joseph's head and kiss him. There’s cum on his arm, on Joseph’s fingers and now in his hair and he cannot bring himself to give a shit. Gradually the kisses trail to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, and then Barclay is nestling his head under his chin.

“I, um, I think it might have been a good thing. That first date. I can be overly focused on work, can forget to turn off the special agent questioning mode and just talk like a person. I’m glad you saw those parts of me and, um, and decided to give me another chance.”

“Hey, you saw that I could be kinda sensitive and stubborn when I think someone did something wrong and you still saved my ass from being humiliated on the internet.” Barclay sighs as Joseph pets his hair.

“Do you, um, want to keep getting to know each other? Good parts and bad?”

Barclay looks up at him. Sees him.

“Yeah, blue eyes, I do.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #taz amnesty #trans barclay

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mycatshuman · 3 years ago

Text

Wrapped Up In A Rom Com

Chapter 3: Mom?!?!?!?

🏳️‍🌈 First off, happy pride month. Second, yeah I know it's been months. And I've had this in my draft for months. I'm sorry. Honestly, I've been watching a lot of the Dreamsmp and playing games on my phone and preparing for graduation. So yeah. I'll try to get back to writing but I cant promise anything.

Warnings: some swearing, mentions of leeches used as a medical practice, let me know if I missed any

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🏜

"There it is." Roman's eyes lit up as he saw the temporary house that had been set up for the group of archeologists to live in as they excavated the site. Virgil smiled slightly. Roman looked really pretty in that moment that he wasn't even going to try and deny that he was looking. He dragged his eyes away from the mummy and sighed. "Now we just have to get inside."

The pair moved up the stairs and Virgil pulled out his key and unlocked the door. "Now, try to stay quiet. Everyone's asleep and I don't know if I'm ready to try to explain this." Virgil paused. "Hell, I don't think I'll ever be ready to explain this to anyone." Virgil and Roman quietly stepped into the house and closed the door behind them. "Sorry, it's a little dark so bear with me."

Suddenly, with a click, a lamp flared on across from them. The two froze. Virgil looked over and pulled in a hiss through his teeth. His boss sat there in an old armchair, his arms crossed and his mouth pulled down in a frown. "Where have you been?"

Virgil's eyes shoot down to the floor. "Uhhhhh." Roman looked back and forth between the two, confusion evident on his face. Virgil attempted to inch his way to his room only to crumble to the floor as he put pressure on his injured ankle.

"Virgil!" Roman dropped to his knees to help catch the other as the other man surged to his feet and rushed to their aid. Roman held Virgil up as the other man kneeled before them.

"What did you do?" The man asked.

Virgil winced. "I fell."

The man paused and raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

Virgil bit his lip. "Uh, no. I don't think I do care to elaborate, Logan."

Logan rolled his eyes. "You are ridiculous."

Virgil forced a grin that was really more of a grimace. "What happened is even more ridiculous and you wouldn't believe me so…"

Logan leaned forward and pulled off Virgil's shoe and began to unwrap his ankle to take a look at the injury. "Maybe you shouldn't assume whether or not I would believe you."

"Alright, I went for a walk and fell through the hole of a tomb that is practically completely untouched and I found the burial chamber and then the mummy came to life and now he's here."

Logan paused in his attendance to Virgil's ankle. "You're right, I don't believe you."

Virgil groaned. "Come on, Logan! Look at him, he's real. He was a mummy not even five hours ago!"

Logan huffed. "Honestly, Virgil. That is the most outrageous thing I have ever heard."

"But it's true!"

"He's right, I am a mummy, er, I was a mummy."

"I'm offended. Seriously, if you were going to try and fool me you could at least get a convincing actor."

Roman gasped, outraged. "Excuse you! But I am an absolutely amazing actor!"

"It's not a prank!"

Roman quickly pulled out a statue of himself he had grabbed from his tomb. "Look!" He shoved the statue into Logan's face, nearly knocking the others glasses off.

Logan rolled his eyes but took the statue to look at it better. As he adjusted his glasses, he studied the statue before looking up at Roman. "You do look a little similar but that doesn't prove anything. All it proves is you look similar to him." He inspected the statue some more. He frowned. "This is in incredibly good condition." He glanced at Roman suspiciously. "Did you fake this?"

Virgil groaned and let his head fall back into Roman's chest and whatever Roman was about to respond with just vaporized as his brain short circuited. Guy on chest. Guy on chest. Guy on chest!

"Logan, why can't you just believe me? Why would I make this up? Why would I sit here and make a fool of myself in front of you?" Virgil sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Whatever." He attempted to drag himself up only for Logan to stop him.

"Hey, no. I still have to check your ankle."

The room went silent as Logan checked Virgil's ankle. Roman watched on with curiosity.

"It's still swollen. Maybe you need to get some leeches."

Virgil went rigid and Logan froze. "I'm sorry, What?"

"Wait, do you not use leeches anymore?"

Virgil's nose scrunched in disgust. "No! We've long since moved past that." He shook his head. "I don't even want to begin to think of what else you might possibly suggest for medical problems."

Logan went quiet as he quickly finished inspecting Virgil's ankle and stood up to go grab an ice pack. The archeologist student frowned. His boss was being uncharacteristically silent. Something was up. When the other came back, he kneeled once again and gently pressed the ice to the ankle. Virgil bent forward and held the pack in place as Logan sat back.

"I-" The other began before closing their mouth again. Virgil watched Logan hesitantly as Roman poked at the ice pack.

"It's cold!" The mummy exclaimed.

Logan shook his head."I-" he sighed. "Virgil, I hope you understand how hard it is for me to grasp this or even entertain the possibility of this. But maybe this is real. But, we're going to have to do tests."

"Tests?" Roman asked as his attention shot up to look at the other.

Logan nodded. "Yes, to see if I can find any bit of evidence to support your claims."

"Great, now can I please go to bed, I'm fucking exhausted."

"Of course, I'll see you in the morning."

Logan left and Roman and Virgil were alone once again. The latter huffed before pulling himself up and began limping up the stairs. "Come on, I have a second bed in my room. You can sleep there." Together, they went up to the second floor and down the hall until they reached another flight of stairs. "I'm suddenly regretting choosing the attic as my room," Virgil complained.

Roman followed, eyes wide as he took in the walls around him. It was so different from what he was used to. And that was exciting. But the hallways were nothing compared to Virgil's room. Inside, he found a desk against one wall and two beds. On the desk there was this strange rectangular silver thing that sat flat against the desk and a small container with small tube-like objects sticking out of it. Next to it, a pad of sorts sat. Roman was so absolutely excited to find out what all of these new objects were. It would be his greatest adventure yet. He just knew it!

----------

Virgil dropped his bag by the door as he limped over to his bed and fell face first into the blankets. Roman yelped. "Don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!"

Virgil lifted his head up, confusion spread across his face. "What?" He asked before he remembered what the ancient Egyptians used to sleep on. He let out a laugh. "Oh no! These are soft. There's a bedframe, which would be similar to what you used to sleep on but we added a mattress that's soft and it's better for our bones." The archeologist pushed himself up and patted the bed. "Come on, see for yourself."

Roman set his basket done on the floor and walked over to the other bed curiously. Virgil watched on with amusement. Quickly, the mummy quickly poked the mattress as if it would bite him if he let his finger linger on the object for any longer.

Virgil laughed lightly. "Don't worry, it won't bite."

Roman stuck his tongue out at the other before turning back to the bed once more. He reached forward slowly and pushed his hand into the mattress. Sparkles sprung up in his eyes as he felt the soft blankets. Carefully, he climbed up into the bed noting the lack of pain on his skin that used to come with the bed he once slept in before he died. Tentatively, he bounced. Laughter bubbled up out of his mouth and he looked over at Virgil.

The emo's breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the Pharaoh's eyes. His dark eyes were overflowing with joy and wonder. He had never seen anything so beautiful. He watched in awe as Roman began bouncing gleefully on his bed, giggles bubbling out into the room. Virgil smiled softly and laid down, perfectly content with watching the greatest treasure from Roman's tomb as he experienced pure joy for the first time in thousands of years.

-------------

If last night was anxiety inducing, it was nothing compared to this morning. While being caught by Logan was unpredictable as his reactions could range from Disappointed Mom™️ to Unhinged Scientist™️, it was nothing compared to how the resident Dad would react. The resident Dad was none other than Patton Crofters, the polar opposite to his husband Logan. He had met both of them in college. Dr. Logan Crofters had been his Archeological professor. He had often stressed his disdain for puns so when Virgil first met Patton, he nearly choked to death when the other introduced himself with a pun. That was when Virgil learned that his professor hated puns except for when his husband made them.

The three had grown close, Patton having proclaimed he was his godfather now. It was an interesting friendship. When the two asked if he wanted to join them on their archeological dig that summer, he had jumped at the chance. He quickly learned that Home Dad Patton was different from Archeological Dig Dad Patton.

Archeological Dig Dad Patton was stricter than at home. He popped up next to Virgil nearly every hour with sunscreen to coat him in and a bottle of water and a snack. He also made sure that Virgil was being very careful when handling anything that could result in him getting hurt if he wasn't careful. Of course Patton was always like that but when at the dig site, Patton was scarily so. And Patton didn't hold back with swear words. Virgil remembered the first time Logan had denied Patton with sunscreen saying that he was busy. Patton had huffed and responded with "Logan Crofters. Stand up right now and put on the fucking sunscreen!" He wasn't sure he had ever seen Logan move so fast.

Virgil had seen what Patton does when upset with someone and it was harsh. He remembered Logan coming into class one day extremely sad because he had upset Patton and his husband had denied any kisses. Needless to say, Virgil was terrified to see what Patton would say after learning about last night.

After waking up that morning, he had just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling silently contemplating whether or not hiding under the bed was a good idea as Roman continued to sleep in the bed beside him. And when Roman woke up around an hour later, he was still laying there.

-------

Roman yawned and stretched his arms as he woke up. Sunlight streamed in through a gap in the curtain. He sat there for a few moments after waking up. The bed was absolutely unbelievable! He had never slept so good! It was so soft and supported his body in a way his old bed never could. If he had had any doubts about living in the future, they were long gone now. Then again, how could anyone have any doubts about the future if there was such a gorgeous man as Virgil to help him adjust to the new century. Speaking of Virgil….

Roman turned to look at the bed beside him to find Virgil already awake. "Virgil!" Roman exclaimed, voice bright as he smiled at the other. "Good morning!"

Virgil did not move. Instead he continued to stare at the ceiling. "How can it be a good morning? Patton is going to kill me when he finds out about last night."

Roman's smile twisted into a confused frown. "Patton? Who's Patton?"

Virgil sighed. "Patton is Logan's husband and resident Dad. Once he finds out I went off on my own AND got hurt, he's probably going to look at me disappointedly and I can not deal with that right now." He pushed himself up only to hiss as pain shot up his ankle.

Roman's eyebrows shot up into his styled bangs and he quickly hopped out of his bed, rushing to Virgil's side.

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"

You could carry me to the kitchen, Virgil's mind unhelpfully supplied. He shook his head. No, that is not happening. Pull yourself together, Virgil. "No, I got it." He grimaced as he pushed himself up onto his hands to slide his legs over the side of the bed. Roman watched on anxiously, his hands hovering in the air between them as if awaiting the chance to help the emo. Virgil looked down at his ankle and sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That doesn't look good."

Roman followed the others gaze down to his ankle and winced in sympathy. Virgil's ankle had swollen up again through the night turning it a nice shade of red as a purple bruise stretched across the skin covering the ankle bone. "Are you sure you don't need any help," Roman asked once again. "That looks pretty bad."

"No, I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks." Virgil bit his lip and stood up to prove his point...only to yelp loudly as the pressure caused a strong jolt of pain to shoot up his leg.

"Yeah, I think you should let me help you." Virgil opened his mouth to argue only to freeze. Roman frowned as he heard thumping. "What was that?" The sound quickly became increasingly louder.

"Oh shi-"

"Virgil!!!!! Are you okay?!?!?" The door burst open and a man stood there in dark brown pants with an abundance of pockets, a light blue, loose, cotton shirt and round glasses framing warm hazel eyes. The man's face was scrunched up in worry as their eyes bounced around the room for any immediate signs of danger. Then they landed on Virgil and Roman. The two men remained frozen as the man panted from his run up two flights of stairs. He glanced between the two before his eyes narrowed in on Roman. "Virgil, who is this?" Asked Patton.

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Everything Taglist: @misery-killed-me @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @syanara @unicornofdarknessstuff @alias290 @odette-ssbu @ray-does-stuff

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If you want to be added or removed from the tag lists let me know

#wrapped up in a rom com #sanders sides au #eventual prinxiety #ts prinxiety #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts logicality #thomas sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #mummy roman #mycatshuman fics #sanders sides fic #no read more

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theimprobabledreamersworld · 3 years ago

Text

A Time Of Magic Chapter Two.

This AU is so much fun to write! And I'm glad people are enjoying it so far 💜 Here is the next chapter!

Taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @red-imeanblue @writerwithtoomanyships @spicycreativity (Hope this is okay, Spicy- just thought this would be the easiest way to keep you up to date!)

If you would like to be added to this taglist- let me know! 😊

Summary: ‘Virgil needs a hand to hold, a voice to guide, someone that might help him find a purpose for his gifts. There is no one else I can turn to Logan. Only you.’

Virgil's second day in Camelot is even more eventful than the first. Can he get through it without getting into danger, or trouble?

Tags: Mild language, threat, death mention, weapons, food. Merlin/Human/Fantasy AU.

Word Count: 3,047

Read on Ao3!

Chapter Two: A Dark Warning.

'In a time of magic, the destiny of the mythical land of Camelot rests on the shoulders of a young warlock. His name… Virgil.’

Virgil heard the bells ring out within the castle walls and sat bolt upright. As it chimed six times, he realised how early he fell asleep yesterday. He needed to go and apologise to Logan for not being a very good guest. He closed his eyes and listened to see if Logan was awake. Luckily he could hear bottles bubbling and the sound of Logan humming a tune, so he got dressed and headed out of his room. He looked around, but Logan was nowhere to be seen, Virgil frowned in confusion since his bed was freshly made, but where could he have gone?

“Logan? Are you here?” He called out into the seemingly empty room. He jumped as he looked up and saw Logan perched on a ladder re-organising a bookshelf up a small balcony.

“Ah, Virgil! You’re up early. Good mor-“ His chipper greeting was cut short by an excruciatingly loud snapping sound as the ladder Logan was standing on caved in and he was sent flying backwards over the banister, hurtling towards an unforgiving floor.

Virgil acted immediately, without a word his eyes began to glow a rich, deep purple. Logan was suddenly moving in slow motion, buying Virgil more time. He frantically began to search around the room to find something, anything that could cushion the fall. His eyes glowed one more time and he dragged Logan’s bed across the room, he sighed in relief knowing it would be okay. Virgil smiled as he blinked and let the scene run in real time. Logan cried out before landing in a crumpled heap onto the bed . He stared in shock for a moment before patting himself over, relieved that he was not injured. Logan leapt up and stared at Virgil in fascination.

“How… did you do that??” He stared at Virgil, almost looking right into his soul. There were no words, Virgil just stammered trying to desperately come up with an answer that didn’t sound completely crazy.

“Did you express the incantation in your mind?” Virgil was trying not to panic, he knew that Logan wasn’t angry with him, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell Uther about his magic… but he couldn’t explain why he could do everything he does, it just… happens.

“Where did you study?” Logan’s last question stunned him into silence. Study? You can study magic? Virgil had never heard of that before. He took a deep breath and finally got an answer in before Logan’s next question.

“I… I was just born this way.” His voice was timid, and Logan continued to stare at him, stunned at the unexpected answer. Hunith was right, Logan thought. Virgil really was a gifted boy. He glanced over at the open letter on his desk surrounded by vials and strange looking chemicals.

‘Virgil needs a hand to hold, a voice to guide, someone that might help him find a purpose for his gifts. There is no one else I can turn to Logan. Only you.’

Logan sighed, believing his word to be the truth. He put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder gesturing for him to sit down at the table for breakfast. He walked away before returning with a delicate bowl of fresh berries and Virgil began eating them enthusiastically. He smiled with gratitude and when Logan sat down with his own bowl, his face had a serious expression on it, and Virgil couldn’t help but panic slightly.

“While I am completely and utterly fascinated by your powers. I need not remind you that you will need to be incredibly careful, especially while you are in the castle grounds. If anyone was to catch you, you would be executed without a second thought.” Logan’s voice was laced with worry, but Virgil couldn’t stop a bitter laugh escaping from his mouth.

“Believe me, Logan. I am well aware. I watched it with my own eyes yesterday.” Logan’s eyes widened ever so slightly, but he shook it off and just nodded sympathetically. He knew that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it from Virgil, but he hoped that he could have explained it to him in his own way. Virgil had only been part of Logan’s life for roughly one day, but it already felt like he was the son he never had, he couldn’t stand the thought of losing him already. He made a silent vow that if anything ever happened, Logan would try to protect Virgil in every way he could, no matter the cost to himself. Enough of that now though, he needed to create a distraction.

“Well, as you’re up. You can help me with my rounds! I have several draughts and medicines that need to be delivered to people who live in the castle grounds. They are all labelled, and I’ve put in a map with their quarters marked out. Make sure you tell Mr. Duill to not drink the vial's contents in one go… he tends to do that.” Virgil was nodding along in agreement as Logan began pottering around adding liquids to different bottles while watching them bubble and change colour. Virgil grabbed the basket and headed out, it would give him a good chance to finally acclimatise to just how large this castle was.

“Oh and Virgil. Stay out of trouble.” Logan called out as the door slowly came to a close.

Virgil took his time wandering around the castle, he explored the different passageways and climbed multiple staircases to look out at the town. Virgil stared in awe at some of the stained glass windows and the stories that were being told within the glass. He was surprised that he managed to find everyone on the list considering how much time he had just spent procrastinating. As he reached the final door of Mr. Duill, he remembered what Logan had told him as he knocked loudly. The man swung the door open violently and Virgil guided his hand to the medicine. He heard a pop of the cork on the vial as he turned to the man.

“Oh, Logan said don’t drink it all at on-” but it was too late. The man drank the small vial’s liquid vigorously like it was a tankard of mead and Virgil just stared at him in disbelief.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” The man looked at him confused and Virgil just smiled as the man closed the door in his face. He sighed and slowly wandered down a corridor.

It was only eight in the morning, but Virgil was already exhausted. He sat down in one of the corners of the castle to take a breather. Despite the constant coming and going of the castle staff, it was actually quite peaceful. It must have been about an hour later when the same bugles from yesterday began to ring out across the courtyard, and Virgil felt his heart beat rapidly increase. ‘Not again.’ He ran out and sighed in relief when there was no stage and chopping block greeting him. Many people began to flock around facing the balcony as the King, Uther strolled out, that same smug look on his face. The feeling of dread was indescribable.

“As I announced yesterday. Twenty years ago today, we banished the Great Dragon from Camelot and lived in peace, free from the evils of magic. We also executed one more sorcerer who deceived you all and committed evil acts in Camelot. Because of this; I have decided to declare not one day of celebration, but three days. Preparations will begin shortly and there will be a grand feast in the castle tomorrow evening, everyone is invited. Let the festivities begin.” He clapped his hands together and everyone began to cheer at the news. Even Virgil couldn’t help but feel excited, it would be great to see inside the Great Hall.

A horrific wail shattered the joy instantly and Virgil looked around trying to find where it was coming from. A window opened and Logan looked down on the courtyard searching for the noise too. Even Uther showed a hint of concern. The crowd parted and there was a woman standing, staring at Uther with tears streaming down her face, the sorrow in her eyes was apparent. She was hunched over, wrinkles covered her face and her skin was sagged. Blonde, wire-like hair blew around her and the brown torn dress she was wearing accentuated how thin she truly was. She cried once more, and Virgil immediately felt sympathy for this woman even though he wasn’t sure why.

“There is only one evil in Camelot, Uther Pendragon, and it is not magic. It is you! I promise you that by the end of these celebrations, you will be shedding more tears than me. An eye for an eye... A son for a son.” Virgil’s eyes widened as he realised that she meant every single word. She must be Peter Robert Sclator’s mother, the executed man from the previous morning. He had to admit, he couldn’t blame her for being heartbroken… but threatening a King like Uther Pendragon was a terrible mistake. He looked up and was surprised to see fear pass through Uther’s eyes too.

“Seize her! She cannot be allowed to leave.” He roared while pointing down at the woman. Several guards attempted to approach her but she let out a shrill scream and they were thrown backwards onto the ground. She grasped a necklace securely fastened around her neck and her voice broke into a low and vicious tone.

‘Uranun caripe baglen ol. Gemeganza de-noan chiis gosaa. Zamicmage oleol ag-sapah arphe. Oresa ethamz taa tabegisoroch.’ Her arms were thrown backwards as she levitated off the ground and began to disappear. A harsh wind surrounded her body and lashed at anyone who attempted to come closer. As the final fragments of her ragged dress faded from view, Virgil smirked ever so slightly at the fact that she had left Uther looking powerless, but he recognised that incantation. It was Old Magic. Worse than that, it was Dark Magic. This woman was dangerous and she wanted revenge, he hoped he wouldn’t have to intervene… but if she harmed anyone, especially if any harm came to Logan, he would have to protect them, even if it cost him his life.

Uther stormed inside the castle, and Virgil glanced up to see the same window open with the same face timidly looking out. His eyes filled with worry. They looked at each other for just a moment, before the man looked away and he reluctantly closed the window carefully due to the cracks made by anger during the execution. He looked over to the next set of windows and saw an equally worried expression on Logan’s face too. Did he know her?

Virgil ran back to Logan’s quarters, and nearly collided into him in the process. Logan put his arms on Virgil’s shoulders, it immediately helped him calm down. They sat down and Logan waited patiently for questions.

“Who is she, Logan? Why is Uther afraid of her?” Logan put his hand on his head looking for his glasses, but he realised they weren’t there. So he sighed and ran a hand through his hair instead.

“Her name is Mary. She used to be something called a High Priestess of the Old Religion. They were incredibly powerful, and during the Great War… Uther was powerless against them to begin with. Only brute force allowed Uther to win, so she has many reasons to hate him with every bone in her body, but executing her son… that was the final straw.”

Virgil nodded, he could understand how Mary felt. He started to try and formulate plans in his head about how he could fight her if he needed to.

“I know what you’re thinking. You cannot face her, Virgil. We have not even discovered how your powers work. It’s too dangerous.” Virgil nodded again, he was right. It would be too reckless, he couldn’t risk being caught. He smiled, a silent promise was made between the two of them.

“Is there anything else I can do to help you today?” He had to admit that he enjoyed running errands for Logan, it gave him a chance to be nosy and look at areas of the castle others are not allowed to.

“No. Everything is done for today, but thank you for the offer. How about you have another wander around the castle? Have you seen the training grounds yet?” Virgil shook his head and listened as Logan gave him directions. He stood up and waved as Logan as he headed out the door once again. He walked down the now familiar corridor and walked towards a spiral staircase he must have missed this morning. Before he walked down, he peaked over the wall to check that he was definitely going the right way this time, he didn’t want another incident like yesterday. Virgil could clearly see the training grounds below him, and as he looked closer, his blood began to boil.

There were a group of knights, roughly Virgil’s age crowding around a young serving boy. One in particular dressed in a loose red shirt with silver armour on his shoulders and brown trousers with what looked like new brown shoes was spearheading the entire event.

“Where is the target?” The leader demanded.

“Over there, sir.” The boy pointed to the large target timidly, while the leader raised his arm in front of his eyes dramatically blocking the sun.

“It can’t be there… The sun is in my eyes.” The boy who was clearly used to being treated like rotten fruit just sighed and he walked over to move the target by picking it up. The guy smirked and turned to the others while saying he’ll teach him a lesson. As he was handed some daggers by one of the entourage, Virgil decided that he had had enough and stormed down the staircase to the training grounds. When he got there, the serving boy was running around with the target in front of him, desperately trying to avoid being hit. The guy kept throwing dagger after dagger at the target while the others laughed at the boy’s expense. As the seventh dagger hit the centre, the boy tripped and the target rolled away with a loud clatter. Virgil put his foot on it, before taking a deep breath and letting a fake smile grace his lips.

“Hey. Come on now, that’s enough… You’ve had your fun, my friend.” The leader looked at the others and pointed a thumb at Virgil like he had grown a second head.

“Do I know you?” He swaggered over until he was standing directly in front of Virgil. Virgil had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid showing his disdain for the arrogance in this guy’s voice.

“Oh, I’m Virgil.” He held his hand out for the man to shake, but he just looked at it in disgust before rolling his eyes.

“So I don’t know you… and yet you called me… friend?” The guy paused waiting for an answer to his audacity. Virgil knew that he should have just walked away at that point, but he was too riled up, and this man needed to be taken down a peg or two.

“That was my mistake…”

“Yeah, it was.” The man thought he had won, and Virgil knew he was going to regret the next words that came out of his mouth… but this guy was a pompous prick, and he deserved it.

“Yeah… I’ve never had a friend who could be such an ass.” He mustered all the sarcasm he could and poured it into every word. The guy stopped short, and Virgil winced as he realised that he had absolutely gone too far. When the guy began to chuckle and readjust the armour on his shoulders, Virgil gulped, but he had gone this far... so he needed to roll with it and hope that he would give up soon.

“Tell me, Virgil… Do you know how to walk on your knees?” He was getting in Virgil’s face now, his arrogance really was overpowering.

“No.”

“Would you like me to show you?” He took a step towards Virgil and he stepped back so he couldn’t be grabbed unexpectantly.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Virgil shook his head, he shouldn’t be making threats but he couldn’t contain his irritation any longer. The guy laughed loudly in his face, and his entourage joined in boosting the guy’s ego even more.

“Really? What are you going to do to me?” He held his arms out in an antagonising fashion, encouraging Virgil to make the first move. He had to clench his fists to ground himself, Virgil knew he couldn’t attack this guy, not if he wanted to live.

“Oh you have no idea.” Virgil muttered with a smirk.

“Come on, hit me! Weakling.” That was it. Virgil saw red and lunged at the guy, but he misjudged the distance between the two of them. There were gasps from spectators as the guy grabbed Virgil’s arm and twisted it harshly behind his back.

“I could have you thrown in jail for that.” The guy spoke directly into Virgil’s ear as he tried to free himself from the grasp.

“Who do you think you are? The King?!” Virgil shouted mockingly. Who did this guy think he was anyway?

“No… but I’m his son… Prince Roman.” Roman called for guards and pushed Virgil into their path. They bowed at the Prince before grabbing Virgil’s arms to restrain him. They dragged him through the castle and down a broken staircase leading to darkness.

The walls constantly dripped with water and the smell was repulsive. The guards opened a heavy metal door and shoved Virgil unceremoniously onto the straw floor before slamming the door shut behind them. He got up and shook the metal bars before angrily kicking them. He’s only been here two days, and he’s already made an enemy within the monarchy. Virgil sighed, he knew he wouldn’t get out today, so he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders before trying to sleep.

As the sun set and darkness seeped in, Virgil was sound asleep, but a low growling voice began to call out.

“Virgil… Virgil… VIRGIL.”

He shocked himself awake as his eyes glowed purple, he looked around frantically but there was no one there.

Who was calling out to him?

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tealquacks · 5 years ago

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They Share A Kitchen

An intrulogical (can be read as platonic) fic

Originally posted here : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644

While the light and dark sides preferred to keep their distance from one another, they had to share some parts of Thomas’ mind. The imagination, for example, was split down the middle just like the two sides that ruled them, a mix of gnarled trees and fluffy clouds, unicorns and demogorgons, living in hostile harmony. They also had to share a living room, a few hallways, and the kitchen. Almost as if Thomas’ subconscious was trying to push the sides together.

But the sharing didn’t bring them any closer, especially considering recent events. The “dark” sides avoided the “light” sides and Roman avoided everybody. All the shared spaces did was give Logan reasons to share more fun facts at the breakfast table.

“Studies show certain animals that inhabit areas close to human activity have begun to develop nocturnal tendencies in order to avoid said humans,” Logan had said one day over a bowl of dry cereal.

“And what does that have to do with anything?” Virgil grumbled. Patton yawned.

Logan sighed. “I’ll answer your question with a question. Why do we always wait until eight am to get our breakfast?”

Virgil looked down into his coffee cup, and mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“...To avoid Remus and Janus.”

Logan had huffed triumphantly. Really, he found their little schedule fascinating. He made a little schedule on lined paper, marked out by half hours. He practically had their movements tracked down to the minute. Weeks worth of observation, neatly graphed out. It almost made Logan want to cry.

Six am to seven am seemed to be the hours where Janus, the resident morning person, dragged Remus to the kitchen and got himself a cup of coffee and made himself breakfast, before making a hasty retreat to his room. Remus made breakfast after him, then left at around seven forty five am. Then the ‘light’ sides (minus Roman) claimed the kitchen from eight am to ten. Sometimes even to ten fifteen, depending on what Patton and Virgil made.

Roman grabbed whatever leftovers there were at ten thirty. Afterwards, (around 11) Janus would emerge to get another cup of coffee and an early lunch, and Patton would get a cup of tea to drink and chat with him. Roman would slip into the kitchen at noon to get water or a snack, then right at twelve o’ eight, Remus would bolt into the kitchen, grab something to eat, then dash away before Patton could enter for another cup of tea at around twelve o’ twelve. At two, Virgil and Patton would sit in the kitchen and chat.

There were only two ‘dead zones’ Logan could find, where nobody visited the kitchen. Between two thirty and four, where everyone kept to themselves in their room until dinner (which Janus and Remus ate at four, himself, Virgil and Patton at five, Roman at around six if he remembered to eat), and from three am to five thirty am. Logan never had the chance to observe the kitchen that early in the morning— which is to say he never had an excuse to disrupt his sleep schedule.

Even then, his curiosity plagued him. Virgil sometimes woke in the night to grab a midnight snack, but was he ever there at three thirty am? Some mornings there would be a pot left on the stove, or flour on the counters. Maybe it was Roman, trying to cook but only succeeding in making a mess. Or Janus? No, Janus always cleaned up after himself, it wasn’t him. Did Patton wake in the night to cook or bake…?

The logical thing to do was to ask if anyone went into the kitchen at those hours. The logical thing sounded like far much more trouble than simply staking out in the kitchen and waiting to see if someone came along, then ask them if their late night (early morning?) visits to the kitchen were a part of their routine. That would cut out any unnecessary conversation. Certainly it would be the best option— avoid any conversation that could possibly turn into an argument and distress Thomas, while also ridding himself of this curiosity.

All of those events led to now. Logan sat on the couch, close enough to hear if anyone entered the kitchen, but obscured enough by the couch that he wouldn’t be seen. Not that that mattered, both the kitchen and the common area were pitch black. Not a single sliver of moonlight shone through the windows. He checked his watch. Two fifty-one. He’d been sitting there for an hour.

Logan briefly paused his train of thought. Why did he care so much? He wanted to complete his chart. Why did it matter to him?

Logan sighed. The mystery person wouldn’t be here for at least another forty minutes. And that is assuming that they follow their schedule every single day. It made sense that there would be nobody in the kitchen. Every single metaphysical person was asleep. Except for him.

Being thorough is important. What if he had missed something? Or this person's trips to the kitchen add a whole new variable to his chart? Who knows. He certainly didn’t, so he had to find out.

He checked his watch again. Three twenty am. Huh, overthinking truly was a great way to pass the time. Only fifteen minutes to go until the truth revealed itself to him in the form of one of his fellow sides stumbling into the kitchen. Maybe it would be Patton, taking sock-muffled steps into the kitchen on his way to bake, or Janus with a novel and a desire for a cup of tea. The possibility that simply nobody went to the kitchen between three thirty am to five am hung in the air. It didn’t make him any less curious.

Footsteps. Heavy, thundering things in the kitchen. Logan jolted. Slowly he turned around to look into the kitchen, and found that the lack of light made his eyes useless. All he could see was a shadowy figure in front of the cupboards. He heard one open, then shut a minute and a half later.

Logan watched the shifting darkness. Metal scratching metal—what the hell was that? He cringed at the harsh sound. More scraping noises. If he could feel anything, he’d classify the prickles running up his spine as fear, or anxiety, but since he certainly had no emotions, he chalked the sensation up to being cold. Even then, Logan flinched hard when the shadowy figure used a food processor. Three thirty five am.

More metallic scraping (sharpening a knife?) mingled with mindless humming. Maybe it was Roman, making himself food. He hadn’t eaten that day, so he would certainly be hungry. So certainly, if Logan were to turn on the light, he would see Roman in his Beauty and the Beast onesie. But then again, Roman was a shit cook. There wouldn’t be any scraping of knives or sounds of rustling in cupboards— maybe the rustling of a cereal box.

Could it be Patton? No. Patton always loudly sang while cooking. Or maybe it was Patton, and he was just being considerate of the other sleeping sides. How would he even confront the mystery chef? ‘Hey, not to sound weird but I’ve been keeping track of everyone’s kitchen time and I want to know if you do this every night. I have a chart. Yes, it is laminated, and color coded. Tell me about your schedule.’

Logan stared into the darkness of the kitchen unblinking. Rustling of… something, more chopping and scraping noises. Something sizzled, and Logan slowly breathed in. Oh, it smelled wonderful, rich and herbal… garlic, maybe. And onion. He checked his watch. Three thirty am, and he still had no clue who the hell was making food. What were they making?

The fridge opened, and Logan could finally see. The cold light glinted off a long, sharp knife. Logan swallowed. There was a hunk of meat on the cutting board. Peering into the fridge was, well, someone, but when they turned their head, Logan could see the bright shock of white in their hair—

“Remus?” Logan exclaimed, bewildered.

Remus jumped and let out a panicked shriek. Logan stood up from his place at the couch, and blindly stumbled to the light switch. Remus flinched at the sudden light, and Logan just blinked as he took in the sight before him.

Sitting on the counter was a baking sheet with a raw rack of lamb perched upon it, covered in some sort of seasoning. On the stove sat a pot of golden broth that barely simmered, and the source of that delectable smell— a skillet of shallots and rice. Another pan of perfectly cooked mushrooms sat close by. Logan blinked.

“What is this?” Logan asked.

“Food,” Remus answered, “and I would’ve let you have some if you hadn’t scared the shit out of me, ‘figuratively’.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. Remus looked as disheveled as ever, even though he only wore a pair of boxers with little octopi on them. For once he wasn’t wearing his eyeshadow, and his hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. A grain of rice was caught in his moustache. What an odd thing to notice.

“I apologize for interrupting your cooking,” Logan deadpanned, “but if you would be more specific?”

Remus shoved the pan into the fridge, then picked up a bottle of white wine. He took a long swig out of it before pouring a bit into the pan with the rice. It sizzled loudly, and he started mixing vigorously.

“I’m making garlic and herb crusted roast lamb and mushroom risotto,” Remus said.

Logan blinked slowly.

“What?”

Remus looked up from his pan, a little smile on his face.

“Come on, Logan! You’re the smart one, you should know what a risotto is!”

Logan sat down at the kitchen table, staring dazedly at Remus.

“I know what a risotto is,” Logan said, “a northern Italian dish made with rice and broth until it reaches a creamy consistency, sometimes made with white wine or butter. I didn’t know you knew how to make it, though.”

Remus added a bit of the simmering broth to the rice.

“Why not? I mean, gluttony, envy, greed, all those dirty little sins Thomas associates with me,” Remus said with a shoulder wiggle.

“Well—“

“Are you jealous of my skills? I know how to keep a man happy, Logan. Don’t you know? The fastest way to a man’s heart—“

“Is through his stomach.” An idiom Patton had taught him. Remus nodded rapidly.

“Yes, like gutting a deer! You carve open the stomach and poke through the diaphragm to cut the esophagus and pull everything out! And then you yank out the heart!” Remus cackled manically, pouring more broth into the pan and stirring. A bit of rice flew out. “It’s really tasty. Deer heart, I mean.”

Logan nodded, “And very nutritious. High in potassium and protein.”

Remus nodded even more, his white streaked hair flopping into his eyes. Logan was still in shock over this whole thing. Who the hell knew Remus could cook? Certainly not him. Now came the hard part, talking.

“Did you know that sheep don’t have teeth in their upper front jaws? And that like, a bunch of sheep are gay!” Remus rambled.

“Do you do this every night?” Logan questioned.

“No,” Remus responded, “most of the time I cook in the buff— it’s freeing!”

“That’s… I mean. Uh. Do you cook every night,” Logan deadpanned.

Remus shrugged.

“On and off. Some days I do some days I don’t!”

Logan opened his mouth, then shut it. Remus, as far as he could tell, was every single bit of chaos Thomas had (that wasn’t already represented by Roman). As Remus himself had said, he was the opposite of rational thought. Remus added a little more broth to the rice, stirring quickly.

“It’s my turn for questions— I have about seven,” Remus said. Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Remus started rattling his questions off.

“One, why’re you in the kitchen? I’ve never seen you up this late, not very logical of you.”

Logan shrugged, not sure what to say. Lying was Janus’ thing. So he straightened his tie, and said:

“Recently, I have been collecting data about the habits of the other sides, namely, when they use the kitchen. A pattern started to emerge, but there were gaps in my data, one of which exists because of the other sides waiting to make dinner, but the other gap I could not fill, nor could I simply ignore. I assumed everyone would be asleep—“

“—And you got me instead!” Remus chirped. “A pleasant surprise, isn’t it?”

Logan started at the knife laying on the counter. Next to it laid a sharpening steel. His wandering eyes landed on Remus’ back. So pale...

“...It’s certainly a surprise. Where did you—“

Something struck him right between the eyes before clattering to the ground. Logan blinked in shock, before realizing Remus had simply thrown a spoon at him.

“It’s my question time, whore!” Remus exclaimed. He summoned another spoon

Logan nodded.

“My apologies,” Logan said, “go on?”

Remus’ brows furrowed, but he continued.

“Questions two, three, four, and six—“

“Six?”

“I’m going out of order. Question two: is Roman still a shit cook? Question three: why are you surprised? Four, how long were you sitting there, and six, do you want to eat with me?”

Logan’s eyes went wide as he tried to take in all the questions. Remus stirred in a little more broth, but he never took his eyes off of him. A little disconcerting, but in character for him.

“Well,” Logan started, “Roman is not the most skilled in cooking. His ideas are creative, but the execution tends to be subpar. While cooking he is easily distracted, which leads to burnt things. The food he summons is wonderful, though. However, this information may not be recent nor accurate because I have not seen Roman since the events after the wedding.”

“The events— you mean when Padre flipped out and turned into a frog? And Jannie told everyone his name, and Roman got princey pissed?

Logan nodded.

“Yes. But to answer question three as honestly as I can, I did not have any reason to believe you had any cooking skill, especially not of this level.”

Remus tilted his head. “Why so?”

“Because of what you represent to Thomas,” Logan explained, “all of his “bad” creativity. I had no reason to believe you could make anything good, let alone what smells like a finely made risotto.”

Logan expected Remus to throw something at him again. Instead, Remus seemed surprisingly calm, looking down at his risotto. Logan straightened his tie again.

“Not only that,” he continued,” but also because Thomas does not possess cooking skills of this caliber.”

Remus chuckled.

“Thomas also does not possess knowledge of a lot of the shit you and Jan talk about. Like, philosophy and psychology and a whole lot of other stuff. Roman knows spanish! So who’s to say that I can’t cook? Besides, Thomas’ perception of me hasn’t done shit since the split, ya know? He has no power over me. He sees me as bad, yeah, and I don’t give a fuck. If you ask me, if Thomas let Janus take control instead of Prudey-Patton, we’d be sailing much much much smoother. But that’s only my opinion of course!”

“Really?” Logan asked, surprised.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I think Janus would be a much better ‘morality’ than Patton. He has good opinions of the shit Thomas should be doing. And, he likes me! I’d say it to his face. Patton’s face. Actually I might have? I’m not sure! I’m not sure…”

“I don’t think you have,” Logan said, “but it would be unwise for Janus to take Patton’s role, since Thomas is attached to Patton and the sudden shift would be detrimental to his mental and emotional health. Besides, I don’t think Janus could actually take his place, since he also acts as Thomas’ self preservation.”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. Question four! Let’s go!”

“I was sitting on the couch for about an hour and forty four minutes. Before that I was in my room. I came out and sat on the couch at one fifty one, so I wouldn’t be tempted to go to bed.”

Remus whistled low. He let go of the spoon, which kept stirring the risotto even without his touch.

“Goddamn, that’s dedication. I can’t even sit still for half that time! What would you have done if nobody showed up?”

Logan looked awkwardly down at his hands. Honestly, he hadn't thought of what he would do.

“Go back to my room and sleep,” Logan answered, “but stay up this late for at least a week in order to make sure I had proper data.”

Remus crossed his arms and leaned back against the stove. With one hand, he tapped his fingers to his thumb in a quick rhythm— index finger to thumb, middle finger to thumb, ring finger to thumb, pinkie to thumb, over and over again.

“It really must mean a lot to you. Which leads to question five!”

“I thought you said you were—“

“Going out of order? Well, I’m not! I’m unpredictable like that. Question five! Why does charting our schedules mean so much to you?”

Logan stared at the knife laid on the counter. For a split second, he considered standing up and leaving. Because how could he explain the reason he decided to chart their movements? There were so many, each one sillier and more trivial than the last, each one of them soaked in emotion, so much so there was no denying how he felt, and if the others found out they’d never ever listen to him ever ever again—

But on the other hand he so desperately wanted to tell him, just to get the words out, so they’d stop pushing on him. Logan fiddled with his tie.

Logan took a slow breath in. On the counter laid the knife. Logan’s eyes flicked around the kitchen. Sharpening steel, cutting board, some leftover herbs, Remus, the streak of white in his hair. The air was cold, the floor was hard, the chair felt sturdy, and his tie was smooth. Sizzling of the pan, his own foot, tapping restlessly on the ground, Remus’ quiet humming. The air smelled like chicken stock and a bit of garlic. None of Remus’ usual reek, surprisingly. Logan moved his tongue around a little. His mouth tasted like spit. Nothing more, nothing less. He breathed out.

“I realized that all I do is pointless. Every plan and suggestion I give is ignored, or unwanted, unless I push and push… but even then, I’m not listened to. The chart is what I believe Janus would call a ‘coping mechanism’. I know this, too, is pointless, but knowing that I can complete this without any interruption, without any need for input from the others is comforting. It does nothing, and yet I’ve dedicated a good deal of time towards it.”

Remus stared at him, expression unreadable. That was until a bright, manic smile split his features, and he clapped his hands.

“So it’s like jacking off!” Remus exclaimed.

Logan made a face, looking at Remus with nothing but unbridled confusion.’The spoon in the risotto kept on stirring by itself.

“...And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Well, it makes you feel phenomenal, it’s something you do for yourself, and it’s good for stress relief!”

Logan blinked slowly, then looked down at his lap, desperately trying to keep his composure.

“That is a good metaphor. Just like masturbation, this chart is, in the end, pointless.”

Remus snorted, and rolled his eyes. He sat down at the table next to Logan, and their knees bumped. Remus set both his elbows on the table.

“I don’t see how it’s pointless.” He said, “It’s something you’re doing to make yourself feel better because everyone else is shit. As you said, a coping mechanism. What makes it pointless?”

“It serves no purpose,” Logan deadpanned.

“Ya see, Logan, when you really, really think about it, everything is pointless!” Remus exclaimed. “Every meal we eat and person we see and every idea we have and every place we go and every happy moment is pointless, because in the end it’ll all go away! It’ll all be for nothing! Thomas will die and we’ll go with him, so everything is pointless!”

Remus leaned closer. Their foreheads touched. How was Remus’ skin so warm? Logan swallowed, trying to push the tingling sensation in his chest down. Fear. It was fear.

“Every single little thing is pointless!” Remus whispered intensely, “It’s true, you know it is, so don’t you agree?”

Logan looked him dead in the eyes.

“No, I don’t,” Logan said darkly, “Because while death is inevitable, Thomas’ life still matters. It might not matter cosmically, but his happiness and well being matter to me, and I will do everything in my power to give him a wonderful life, a life he can smile at even when he is close to death. So all those things you just said were meaningless? They matter more than anything. To Thomas, and to me.”

Remus smiled, wicked and sharp, waggling his eyebrows.

“So your chart isn’t pointless,” Remus said mischievously, “nothing you do is. As a part of Thomas, anything and everything you do matters. And if you say it doesn’t, then that makes you a hypocrite!”

Logan’s eye twitched. Ah, dammit, he just got played like a cheap kazoo by a guy who eats deodorant.

“I guess you’re right.”

Remus dramatically leaned back, arms outstretched like a bird.

“I know!”

Logan sighed, hands in his lap. The risotto kept on stirring itself. Was it done? How long had it been? Logan looked at his watch. He couldn’t see, his vision clouded. He blinked.

“I don’t know,” Logan said, “I’m Thomas’ logic I don’t know why he won’t listen to me anymore. Why none of them ever listen to me. I don’t feel like I belong among the sides even more. I’m a part of Thomas. It’s hard. I know I’m needed, but I don’t feel that way, and I can’t stop feeling. I’ve tried. I’ve really, really tried. Really, everything feels pointless, because none of my efforts yield anything of value.”

Remus pat his head.

“There there,” Remus said, “now about these feelings. Have you tried turning that big brain of yours off and on again?”

A chortle escaped Logan’s month. Then, a teardrop landed on his glasses. He ripped them off and slammed them on the table, taking deep, slow breaths to calm himself. They didn’t work, and dissolved into hiccuping, pathetic sobs.

“Oh boy,” Remus said. He didn’t move his hand from Logan’s head, gently stroking his hair like how one would pet a cat. Oddly enough, it was a little calming. Logan thought for a second of what the others would see. Remus, in only boxers, petting him as he cried. Remus made a few cooing noises.

“Why did I even tell you all this?” Logan whined, sniffling wetly.

Remus removed his hand. Logan heard him stand, then rustle around a bit.

“It’s like, four am,” Remus explained, “everyone is dumb as fuck at four am. Even you, Raisin Brain.”

“Raisin Brain?”

“A pun on the cereal and a reference to how scrunchy and smart your brain is, like. A raisin? It is also something that proves my point. But I get you, sometimes the thoughts just have to come out. Here, try some.”

Logan looked up from his hands to see Remus, offering him a spoon with some of the risotto on it. He’d mixed in the mushrooms. The risotto was as pale as his skin. Logan took the spoon from Remus, and put it in his mouth. His teary eyes went wide at the taste. The rice was cooked wonderfully, and he could taste the wine and chicken broth. The mushrooms in the dish added a wonderful earthiness, and Logan forced himself to chew slowly, relishing every last flavor before swallowing.

Remus peered down at him anxiously, twiddling his moustache with the hand not holding the spoon.

“What do you think?” He asked. Logan wiped his eyes, running his tongue over his teeth to catch the last bit of the taste.

“It tastes wonderful, the wine and the mushroom… it’s a very well done dish, you should be proud of yourself.”

Remus clapped his hands, dropping the spoon and letting it clatter on the floor. He jumped up and down, hopping back over to the pan of risotto and taking it off the heat and letting it rest on the stove.

“Won’t it get cold?” Logan asked. He sniffled.

“Not unless I want it to,” Remus said, “and I don’t want it to! I’m serving it with the lamb, which I’m gonna roast. But it has to marinate for a while. Here, while we wait…”

He grabbed the bottle of white wine from the counter and sat at the table with Logan, offering the bottle to Logan. How long had it been since he’d had wine, or anything alcoholic? One week and three days. How long had it been since he’d had wine somewhere that wasn’t his bedroom? About a year and a half. He couldn’t risk being drunk in front of the others. Then they wouldn’t view him as serious and smart, just as a silly, drunken idiot—

None of those others were here. They were all asleep.

But what would Remus think? Would he care? He could hold this moment over his head for the rest of Thomas’ life, and he would no longer be able to keep him in check. He’d truly be useless, unnecessary.

“I can hear you thinking from here, Teach,” Remus said, brows furrowed, “I can get you some water instead?”

Logan nodded. Remus snapped his fingers, and the golden wine faded until it was clear. Logan hesitantly took the bottle, gingerly sipping. Yes, that was water. He couldn’t help but take a deep gulp, almost choking on the cold, wonderful water. He lowered the bottle. Logan furrowed his brows.

“Wine to water? Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?” Logan questioned.

Remus smirked, “I think my way is more fun. I still have more questions, if you’re game?”

“I’m not ‘game’. If I was, I’d be chess,” Logan said.

“I’d be strip poker!” Remus cackled, throwing his head back in glee. When he composed himself, he looked at Logan. “But that’s not what I mean. I mean. Okay! Question eight.”

Logan blinked. He put his glasses back on, sniffling pathetically.

“I thought you only had seven questions—“

“Question eight!” Remus proclaimed, “why are you so self conscious?”

Logan spluttered.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Uh. It’s like, four am, and you’re in your usual clothes. I’m in my boxers. It’s a little weird.”

Logan looked over Remus. Pale, a few small scars unique to him. The octopi boxers.

“I prefer to remain clothed,” Logan said, “especially in places where I could be seen. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Remus snorted.

“Whatever, I’ll get an honest answer from you one day. Now, question seven and six— question seven! What should I cook tomorrow? Er, tomorrow at this time. Time is weird.”

Logan paused, sipping the water slowly. He could say some basic dish, and join him for that, or he could test the theories building in his head, test the limits of the chart by throwing a new variable into the schedule, that variable being Remus.

“Croissants!” Logan exclaimed. He took a deep breath. “Yes. Croissants. Homemade croissants.”

Remus’ brows shot up. He flicked his wrist, and a piece of worn looking paper appeared in his hand. He glanced at the paper, eyes going wide.

“Ah, fuck, this recipe takes like, twelve hours just to prepare the dough, holy shit! This’ll take all day—“

“If you begin the preparation at three thirty am, you’ll be done at four forty pm on the dot.”

Remus looked at Logan with a bright smile. There was still a grain of rice stuck in his mustache, as white as the streak in his hair. Logan blinked slowly, suddenly struck with the urge to say something was pointless so Remus would get closer, press their foreheads together and do… something. Remus flicked his wrist, and the recipe disappeared in a burst of smoke.

“Perfect!” Remus exclaimed, “Come around the kitchen then, tomorrow, I mean. And I’ll make you the Cwossaints.”

“Croissants,” Logan deadpanned.

“Oh, keep talking French to me, honeycomb! Ah! But now, it is time for the last question, question six!”

Remus struck a pose, and a pan flew out of the fridge and clattered onto the stove. Pale, polished bones stuck up— oh, the lamb. With a snap of Remus’ fingers, the pan suddenly burst into a plume of green flame, lapping at the walls and the ceiling, leaving no mark, as Remus’ destruction typically did. The rich smell of garlic and cooked meat filled the kitchen. Logan stared at Remus, unblinking.

“Question six,” he repeated.

Remus made a face, but nodded and spoke. “Yeah, question six! Do you want to eat with me? The lamb and the risotto? I promise, it’s heavenly! And good company would make it even better!”

Logan stared at the stove. Alright. Pros and cons. It was four am, but he could still be logical, weigh his options.

Pros: A good meal, conversation with someone who listened.

Cons: lack of sleep, another distraction, what if the others find out.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, standing from the table, and gingerly pushing his chair back, “but I really should be going back to sleep. It certainly smells wonderful, but I really must be going to bed.”

Remus crumpled a little, dropping the pose.

“Yeah, sure, whatever! I’m sure Jannie will eat it for breakfast. But you’re eating the cross-I-ants, or I’ll skin you.”

Logan nodded, and took a step backward.

“I will.”

Remus stood, picking up the wine bottle and passing it to Logan. Logan took the bottle, filled with water, not the wine. He gave Remus a tight lipped smile, and walked to the stairs. Logan set his hand on the banister.

“Remus?”

“Yes?”

Logan didn’t dare look at Remus.

“You have a grain of rice in your mustache.”

Remus cackled as Logan ascended the stairs, not looking behind him. It was as if he was a child again, running away from some sort of shadow monster that emerged only in the darkness. Running away, not from Remus, but from something. A lot of things. The water in the wine bottle sloshed.

Logan reached his room and flung the door open. His bed was perfectly made, indigo sheets pulled up nice and trim with no sign of being slept in. The lights were still on, bathing the room in clinical white light. His desk was covered in papers that he should’ve already looked over. A well loved indigo office chair sat in front of the desk. He set the wine bottle on his desk, and leaned over his chair. There was his chart. Almost reverently, he took a green marker, and, in the once empty space, wrote Remus’ name.

There. It was done. He’d finished it. It was neat and tidy, and his. He exhaled slowly. Carefully, he undid his tie, then slipped off his shirt. After that, his shoes, then his jeans. He folded them neatly, and set them at the foot of his perfectly made bed. Sleep. Sleep sounded good. So did a lamb dinner. But there would be croissants, another excuse to sit at the kitchen table and be asked silly, harmless questions while studying the pale skin of Remus’ back.

Logan snapped his fingers to turn the lights off, and sat down in the office chair. Nice and comfortable. He relaxed, and took slow, deep breaths to take himself to sleep.

Each breath smelled like cooked lamb and wine.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts logan #ts remus #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #intrulogical #pinned

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babysizedfics · 4 years ago

Text

Pink Crayons and Pinky Promises - Part 1

Summary: Being a super cool big brother is hard work sometimes. Especially when you don’t feel as big as usual, Vee doesn’t feel as little as usual, you parents are asleep, your baby sister’s pullup needs changing, you both need breakfast, you don’t know where crayons come from, and you miss your Mommy. But Mommy always calls Roman a clever little boy, so he’s gonna try to deal with all that stuff anyway! That can’t be too hard, right?

Word count: 4.9k

Take me to part 2! (There’s another link at the end of this part!)

Also on AO3!

oOo

The carpet brushed against Roman’s feet as he dragged them back and forth, over and over again. He smiled and wiggled on his butt a little where he was sitting on the floor. Then he rubbed his feet over the carpet again. Back and forth. Back and forth, really fast!

Daddy called them happy feet, and Mommy said it was stimming. Roman didn’t really care what it was called. He just liked doing it! It made his chest less stuffy and his fingers less tingly. He liked doing it when he felt bored, or when he felt bubbly, or sometimes when he felt weird.

This morning was kind of weird. Last night Mommy didn’t feel good and Daddy had to look after him while Nana came to their house to look after Vee. That was okay though because Roman was a super big brother and helped look after the baby! He was really helpful and at bedtime he even let Vee sleep in his bed because she didn’t like sleeping alone. Daddy and Mommy were gonna be so proud when they found out what a responsible big brother Roman was!

But since Roman woke up this morning, he didn’t feel that big anymore. Vee was still asleep in Roman’s bed and Mommy and Daddy were still asleep in Mommy’s bed and Nana must have gone back to his house after Roman and Vee fell asleep. So that meant Roman was all alone right now.

Roman was never really on his own, except if he was awake way past bedtime or when he really wanted to be and yelled at everyone to leave him alone… But right now he didn’t want to be alone! He wanted Mommy to play with him and Daddy to call him nice names and Vee to copy him and laugh when he did something funny.

It wasn’t a good idea to wake anyone up, though, so Roman decided to make the most of his time alone! He played his car game, like, five times already. He put coffee in his sippy cup and finished it. And since he didn’t have his parents around to tell him not to, he even snuck his toothbrush out of the bathroom to chew it!

Exactly why Roman wasn’t allowed to chew his toothbrush was completely lost on him. It was like he was brushing his teeth extra! And it tasted good and felt nice in his mouth and when he grinded his teeth on the bristly bits it made a really cool crunchy sound that filled his ears and made him rub his feet on the carpet even faster! Mommy and Daddy clearly just didn’t understand fun when they saw it. Roman thought he was a genius to discover how nice it was to chew his toothbrush. So he wouldn’t be ashamed of it anymore! If anyone asked him about it he would just tell them to mind their own business!

“Wo, what are you eatin’?” a small voice asked.

Roman yanked the toothbrush out of his mouth and let it fall inside his sleeve. It left a yucky wet trail on his wrist and it made his face scrunch up a little, but Roman quickly shook the feeling off and looked over at the bed.

Vee was sitting up against the headboard and rubbing her eyes tiredly. “We’re not allowed lollipops without asking Daddy or Mummy first.”

Good, Vee didn’t realise it was Roman’s toothbrush. And fae sounded half little going by faer voice and what fae called Patton and Logan! Fae was way easier to argue with when fae was only half little. (Mostly because fae actually understood what he was saying.)

“Yeah, well Daddy and Mommy aren’t awake yet, so.” Roman stuck his tongue out at his sister.

“Hey!” Vee whined and her lip stuck out. She kind of looked like she would cry. Roman really hoped she didn’t or he might be in trouble. Luckily she only said: “I’m gonna tell Daddy you eated sweets without asking and sticked your tongue out at me!”

Ugh, what a tattletale. Apparently Roman had no choice.

He rolled his eyes and pulled the toothbrush out from his sleeve. “Fine, I wasn’t eating candy, look.” Despite his greatest efforts, Roman’s cheeks grew warm when he showed Vee his chewed up toothbrush. He bit his lip and asked her quietly, “You won’t tell Mommy or Daddy, right?”

Vee’s eyes darted to the door, her lips twisted, then her gaze flitted back to Roman. She looked undecided.

“I promise I won’t let you get in trouble for it,” Roman quickly added. But Vee still looked a little anxious, so Roman kept going: “A-and I can cut up some watermelon for breakfast!”

A big smile broke out on Vee’s face, then it went blurry. She was bouncing up and down on her butt and squealing.

Roman knew that would do it! He laughed and rubbed his feet quickly on the carpet. This was fun! “Deal, Vee-Vee?”

Vee bounced up from the bed and tiptoed over to Roman’s spot on the carpet quickly. She dropped to sit on the floor next to him and nodded with a big smile. “Okay, deal!” Her eyes wandered over the toys on the carpet.

“Did you wanna play with me?” Roman asked, his tummy bubbling with excitement. Vee was hardly ever big enough to play with him! This was the best morning ever!

Vee nodded, but her smile dropped a little after looking at Roman’s cars. Then she pulled her thumb up to her mouth. “Um, yeah… But I’m not allowed to play cars, am I? You said I get it wo-w-wo—” She paused and frowned at herself, looking like she was thinking super hard. “I get it… wong.”

“Good job, Vee,” Roman whispered with a smile that was quickly returned. (Daddy said it was good to make Vee feel good when she tried to make her voice work better, even if she didn’t always get the words right.) “And you don’t get it wrong but…” Roman looked at his cars—his absolute favourite toys that had to be played with in a really specific, special way—and bit his lip again. “Um, but I bet we can play another fun game without my cars!”

That made Vee smile again, so Roman thought that must have been a very clever idea. He was full of those!

“Cool!” he yelled a bit too loudly, because it made Vee startle. But then fae giggled and whispered “cool” back so Roman didn’t worry too much. “F-then we—we can—we—” Roman swallowed some spit before continuing, “We—we can play, um, um… the Knight and Princess game!”

Vee’s pink-painted fingernail went between faer teeth. “Okay, um, can we play it without the dwagons and evil wizard though?”

What a silly question! “Vee,” Roman chuckled and shook his head. “Of course we can’t!”

“Oh…” Vee slipped her finger between her lips and sucked it like a baby.

“A eminent of danger is essential to the Knight and Princess game,” Roman explained (even though it was really obvious). “If there weren’t any dragons or evil wizards then I wouldn’t have anything to save you from!”

Vee’s pigtails bounced and swished when she cocked her head to the side. “W-w-what’s a ‘emimenp’?”

What a silly question! “Eminent! It’s a big kid word, it means…” Roman blinked. Mommy used the word a few days ago and Roman asked what it meant and tried really hard to remember so he could use it around Mommy to make him proud. But he couldn’t really remember what Mommy told him it meant, he just remembered Mommy calling him a smart little boy for asking questions. It would be cool if Mommy was here to call him smart now…

Roman nibbled his toothbrush then spoke around it quietly, “It means, like, a thing.”

It made Roman feel a bit better to see his little sister nodding with big eyes. “That’s a weally big word,” she breathed, clearly impressed.

There was that nice bubbly feeling in his tummy again and Roman sat taller.

Then Vee kept talking. “Um, but I weally don’t wanna play it with the baddies…”

“How come?” Roman complained, slouching in his seat. That was no fun!

Vee wiggled and instead of looking next to Roman’s face, her eyes dropped to her lap. Her cheeks went the same colour as her nails. “W-w-w-well, w-w—” she shook her head quickly and changed her voice to a whisper. “It’s just—It’s a bit scawy. And Mummy isn’t here to make it less scawy?” Vee’s voice went high and squeaky at the end. Then she pulled one of her pigtails forward and hided behind it.

Sometimes Roman forgot how much of a crybaby Vee could be. It got kind of annoying when he just wanted to play but Vee started crying and Daddy or Mommy or Nana told him off because it was ‘too loud’ or ‘too scary’ or ‘too much of a safety hazard’. Then again, Vee getting scared all the time just meant Roman got to be a cool, strong, protective big brother all the time. So it wasn’t all bad.

“Okay, we don’t have to play that one!” he quickly reassured her like a good big brother. He even put down his toothbrush and holded her hand and she squeezed his fingers! “We could play Tag or Mermaids,” (but maybe without the sharks) “or Pooh cards or Hide ‘n’ Seek or—”

Oh no! Roman’s empty hand flew up to his mouth and he stopped talking. But it was too late.

There were already shiny tears in Vee’s eyes. Fae pulled faer hand out of Roman’s to hug faer knees to faer chest.

“I’m sorry, I-I-I forgot!” Roman quickly whispered. He felt really, really bad. It was super important to not mention Hide and Seek to Vee, Mommy and Daddy said. It always made her sad because of what happened last time. “It’s okay, baby, we never ever have to play that one ever again, I promise!”

Vee whimpered. Then she lifted her little finger in between their faces. It was kinda shaky. “Pinky pwomise?” she whispered really quiet.

Roman wrapped his bigger pinky around Vee’s smaller one. “Pinky promise,” he said very seriously. Pinky promises were no joke.

Then there was a loud growl that made Vee gasp. Faer pinky squeezed Roman’s so tight it kinda hurt. But then fae let go a little and looked down at faer tummy. It growled again.

Roman burst into laughter, and it was quickly followed by Vee’s giggles.

“I’m hungry too,” he said, mainly to help Vee not feel embarrassed. “Let’s go have breakfast!”

“But, um, I thought we were gonna play somethin’?”

That was a good point… Luckily, Roman was really creative and clever! “We can play while we eat! I think I left my colouring stuff downstairs yesterday.”

“Okay!” Vee squeaked. Then she rolled on her tummy and crawled to the bed, using the bedpost to help pull herself up from the floor. The rustly pink bit of her pullup poked out from the back of her pyjama pants as she stood.

“Oh!” Roman remembered a very important thing, then grabbed his toothbrush and stood up too so he didn’t feel smaller than Vee. Daddy and Mommy usually checked the very important thing, but they weren’t here which meant Roman had to be a good big brother and help his baby sister! So he asked the very important thing: “Is your pullup wet?”

But it didn’t seem like it helped much. It just made Vee pout and pull the front of her pyjama shirt down. Kinda like if she was trying to hide her pullup. But that was silly! It wasn’t like Roman had x-ray vision to see through her pyjamas!

“I’m not gonna laugh or anything,” Roman promised, then repeated softer, “Is it wet?”

It took a few seconds for Vee to nod silently. Her cheeks were super pink.

“Okay, then you can go change your pullup while I put my cars away!”

“No!”

Roman’s mouth dropped open a little. Vee never did that! He looked down at faer grumpy face and frowned. “Vee, Daddy always gets you a new pullup if it’s wet, but he’s still asleep. And you don’t like me being there when you get a diaper change, right?”

Vee looked even grumpier just hearing it.

Just like Roman thought! He nodded to himself. “So then I can’t help you either. You gotta get a new one yourself.”

Vee’s pigtails bounced really fast this time because she was shaking her head lots.

The light, bubbly feeling in Roman’s chest was now a hard, squeezy feeling. This was way harder than it looked when Daddy did it. He didn’t really know what to do when his little sister didn’t listen to him.

“But…” Roman gripped his toothbrush handle tightly, then started chewing the bristly bit again. It made his voice kinda muffled, but he was still a big boy and could talk good. “But Daddy always—”

“No,” Vee whined, “I don’t wanna!” Faer thumb went in faer mouth and fae sucked it like a baby. “Don’ wanna, d-don’ wanna.” Faer voice was all high-pitched and wobbly… like fae was gonna cry.

“Okay! Okay, that’s cool!” Roman blurted, yanking his toothbrush from his mouth so fast it scratched his gums. He licked the scratch then carried on before Vee got any closer to tears, “You don’t hafta change your pullup. Don’t cry, baby.”

Vee pulled her thumb out of her lips and hid it behind her back. “I’m not a baby wight now…”

Roman nodded even though Vee was kind of always a baby. Gotta keep the baby happy. “Okay, you don’t hafta be a baby either.”

Even though it didn’t feel like Roman handled that very well, at least Vee didn’t look like she was gonna start blubbering anymore. He didn’t like dealing with Vee when she was crying.

Then Roman thinked really hard to himself for a moment (as clever boys do). He had stopped Vee from crying this time, but Vee always cried even more when she wet herself. And Roman didn’t like it when the carpet or the couch got wet, especially when their parents weren’t there. Roman was only a little boy, he didn’t know how to clean Vee’s accidents! So…

“But you gotta pinky promise you won’t have a accident ‘til Daddy changes your pullup.”

Vee nodded really hard and wriggled her pinky around Roman’s. “Pinky pwomise, no accidents!”

There, all fixed! Now they could just have fun!

oOo

Being little without Mommy or Daddy was fun, but it was also really tricky. Of course, if you’re a clever little boy like Roman that gives you an advantage. But it was still tricky, even for him!

There was lots of stuff he had to remember. Like when they got Vee’s spare paci from Roman’s drawer, Roman had to check if the sucky bit of the paci had fluff on it before Vee put it in her mouth. But that was easy!

And then they had to go downstairs, except they weren’t allowed to walk on the stairs when they were little and alone. That’s what Mommy and Daddy always reminded him. So Roman had the genius idea to slide down the stairs on their butts! He made sure to hold Vee’s hand the whole time—not because he was scared of falling or anything! Just because that’s what big brothers do. And to be an extra amazing big brother, Roman even let Vee hold his hand after they were off the stairs.

Making breakfast was definitely a grownup job, but Roman tried his hardest with that too. He was really careful pouring oat milk into both of their sippy cups and screwed the lids on super tight with Vee’s help holding them. It was hard ‘cause they were still holding hands. They spilled a small puddle of milk on the countertop but Vee slurped it up real quick, like a vacuum!

And when Roman poured the Cap’n Crunch into their divider plates (Roman’s being a cool, blue Spongebob Squarepants one and Vee’s being a babyish, pink Hello Kitty one) he only dropped 14 pieces of cereal on the floor! He counted them all by himself. Then he left them there so that later he could prove to Mommy that he counted them right. Plus he didn’t wanna touch icky floor food! (He didn’t let Vee suck up those like a vacuum even though fae really wanted to. Silly baby!)

The most tricky bit was when he cut the watermelon. There was no situation Roman could think of where he would be allowed to use a knife when he was little, so he just stopped being little for a few minutes to use the knife then carry everything (including Vee) into the living room.

But now he was little again! Him and Vee were colouring pretty pictures for Mommy to help him feel better and they both had yummy melon and cereal and milk. They were having lots of fun and it was all because of how clever and responsible Roman was!

“Wow boo bay pink ob cwayom aim?”

Roman leaned up from where he was lying on his tummy and propped himself on his elbows to look at Vee. “Whadja say, Fee-Fee?” he asked around his toothbrush, giggling when it made his voice sound funny.

The paci that was bobbing in Vee’s mouth suddenly shot out of her mouth. It dropped to her lap with a long trail of drool.

“Eww!” Roman laughed. It made the scratch on his gums hurt, so he licked it again. “Why’d you spit it out?!”

Vee smiled, faer lip shiny with spit. “I had to get it out weally fast!” fae squeaked and wiggled on her butt. Then faer smile went away a bit and fae pulled her shirt down and stopped wiggling. “Um, I said h-how do they think of cwayon names?” fae asked quieter.

This kinda thing happened all the time. Since Roman was bigger and older and cleverer than his baby sister, she asked him lots of questions. But sometimes Roman didn’t know the answers… so he just thought up ones instead! It was fun, but only if Daddy and Mommy weren’t around to say he was wrong. It wasn’t about being right, it was about being creative!

And about tricking his silly baby sister.

Roman picked up the crayon he had been using on his drawing and inspected the label. ‘Forest Green’.

Really quickly—so that Vee didn’t think he was lying or anything—Roman thought of an answer: “They name them after wherever they find them growing.”

Apparently that wasn’t a good enough answer for Vee. Her eyebrows went down and she said, “Nu uh, cwayons don’t g-gw-w-gw—” She shook her head to stop the stutter and tried again. “Cwayons don’t come on twees!”

“Well duh,” Roman rolled his eyes. “Not all of them at least. Otherwise they would all be named after trees. Crayons can show up anywhere.”

Vee’s eyes went wide and a giggle bubbled up in Roman’s chest, but he kept it there. It was cool to be smart. But it was even cooler to pretend you didn’t care about how smart you are—like Mommy! So Roman didn't pay attention to Vee’s reaction and just kept colouring and humming a song he heard in one of his cartoons.

“Anywhere?” Vee whispered after a bit.

Roman’s legs kicked and wriggled in the air behind him, but he kept looking at his drawing. Keeping it cool. “Yeah, Vee, didn’t you know that already?”

It went quiet for a while after that. The green crayon was making nice scratchy sounds as Roman coloured and his toothbrush was making nice crunchy sounds in his mouth. His gums were kinda hurting now, but he still wanted to chew his toothbrush so he just ignored it.

He nearly forgot what they were talking about before. That was until Vee tugged on his sleeve and Roman looked over at her.

“Where did they find this one?” Vee asked, shoving one of the pink crayons right under Roman’s nose. Her other hand tugged nervously at her pyjama shirt and her knees wiggled where she was sitting criss-cross-applesauce. She was looking at him like he was the cleverest person in the world, waiting for his answer.

A big smile stretched Roman’s lips (so big he had to take his toothbrush out!) and he grabbed the crayon quickly. He couldn’t keep Vee waiting, fae was depending on him!

He carefully read the label—’Jazzberry Jam’—then offered his wisdom. “Oh, that one’s easy. They found it in a jam jar.”

Vee’s mouth went in a little circle shape. “Ooh, like Mummy’s jam?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“Wow!” Vee pulled the crayon close to her chest, kinda hugging it. “Does that mean it tastes like jam too?”

Roman’s throat felt tight because he wanted to laugh so bad. Keep it cool! “Why don’t you taste it and see?”

Even though Roman literally just told Vee to do it, he was still pretty surprised when Vee stuck out her tongue and dragged the crayon across it.

“What did it taste like?” he whispered with wide eyes. It was kind of exciting to think it might of tasted like jam!

Vee licked her lips and clicked her tongue. Then she pouted. “Jus’ like cwayon.”

“Aw, I thought it—uh, y-yeah, I knew it wouldn’t taste like jam,” Roman said, trying not to sound too disappointed. He shrugged his shoulders at Vee. “You need to check, y’know?”

Vee nodded solemnly. Then she hummed and started rifling through the other crayons she had left all over her scribbly paper.

“Mmm, what about… this one?”

Again, Roman accepted the crayon Vee held out to him and read the label. “Do you know what a carnation is?”

“Thas what Daddy gwows in the garden!”

“Yeah, so they found this crayon in one of Daddy’s flowers!”

“How d’you know that?”

“‘Cause it’s called Carnation Pink.”

“But how d’you know what it’s called?”

Roman sighed and pushed himself up from lying on the carpet. It was making his tummy hurt anyway. He swung his legs under him so he sat criss-cross-applesauce, and held the crayon up to Vee’s face.

“It says it on the label, see?”

Small, sticky fingers pulled Roman’s hand so close to Vee’s face that she went cross-eyed.

“Yuck, yuck,” Roman gasped and quickly pushed Vee’s hands off of his. He dropped the crayon on the floor and dragged his hand all over his pyjama shirt. The sticky melon juice made him feel gross! It made his head go jumbly and his fingers feel jittery. He whimpered and kicked his feet on the floor to try to shake off the ickies. “Vee, don’t get yucky stuff on me!” he whined.

Vee looked down at her hands confused. Then she giggled and held her palms up to Roman’s face. “Melon juice isn’t yucky!”

“It is! I don’t like it!” Roman cried, and didn’t like how his voice cracked. Tears suddenly made his eyes hot and burny, and he scrambled away from his baby sister.

Once he was a safe distance from the yucky, sticky melon juice, he hid his eyes behind his arm and squinted them tight real hard. One big, shaky breath. Another big, shaky breath. One more big, deep, steady breath. The tears were gone.

“Wo-Wo?”

After making sure he definitely wasn’t gonna cry like a baby anymore, Roman slowly looked over his arm to his sister.

Vee was hugging faer knees to faer chest and looking kinda scared. Fae pulled faer thumb out of faer mouth and whispered, “Weally sowwy for touchin’ you… Didn’t wanna make you cwy.”

“Am not!” Roman yelled, a bit too fast and a bit too loud and a bit too squeaky. His cheeks went hot. Then he tried to sound bigger and cooler. “I was—I was just focussin’ really hard.”

“Fucksin?”

Roman snorted loudly then hurriedly slapped his hand over his mouth. That made him feel a lot better already.

“Y-yeah, Vee,” he giggled, really hoping she used that word around Daddy later. That would be the funniest thing ever! “Yeah, I was ‘fucksin’ on, um… on the crayons!” He scooched back over to Vee. “I gotta focus real hard so I can read their names!”

“Weadin’?”

“Yeah, Vee, reading!”

That word made Vee really excited for some reason. Her hands started flapping and she squealed. “You a-a-a clever big kid!” she cheered excitedly and wiggled on her butt to sit closer next to Roman.

Roman’s chest went light and bubbly again! “Mhm, I’m a clever big kid ‘cause I can read!” He wanted to hold his little sister’s hand again, but it was yucky. So he put his arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder.

“A-a-a-a-am… A-a-a-a—” Vee cut herself off and growled a little. It was super small and soft though, like a kitten.

“You wanna try starting with a different word?”

Vee’s head nodded against him. “M-m-maybe I can wead too!”

Roman giggled. That was a silly idea! “Vee, you’re only a baby. Babies can’t read!”

“Not a baby wight now!” Vee looked up at Roman with her thumb between her lips and big pout.

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” Roman said, unconvinced. Then he frowned. “Hey, you’re not allowed to suck your thumb. Do you want your paci?”

Vee nodded but didn’t move or look any less grumpy, so Roman reached over and got it for her.

“There you go, baby,” Roman said when he pushed the sucky bit in Vee’s mouth. It made him giggle because she didn’t even realise he called her a baby.

“Fankoo,” Vee garbled around the paci.

Roman smiled. She was definitely a baby. But if she wanted to try reading then Roman could still be a good big brother and help her!

Luckily, the crayon Roman picked up from the carpet wasn’t sticky. He held it in front of Vee’s eyes again like the last one. “Okay, see there?” He pointed at the label. “It has letters on it, and that’s the name of the crayon! You just gotta read it out, then I can tell you where they found it.”

Vee took the crayon (gently this time) with a little hum.

“Can you tell me what it says, Titch?”

After a while of squinting at it, Vee tried to sound it out quietly. “M-m-mm… Ma… Mama?”

That didn’t sound right.

“Can I see?” Roman held his hand out for the crayon.

Vee gave it to him then suckled faer paci real fast, staring at him. Waiting.

Roman read the label and blushed. “Um, you were close,” he giggled nervously. “It, um… It actually says ‘melon’.”

The paci made a pop sound when Vee pulled it out from her lips. “Wait, weally?”

“Yeah…” Roman smiled at his sister sheepishly. Then they both burst into giggles. How funny!

“Like our one!” Vee squealed.

The carpet went brush, brush, brush on Roman’s feet as he laughed. Nothing seemed so bad anymore! He barely even remembered why he was crying!

“I, um, I-I-I finished all my melon!” Roman bragged with a proud smile.

It was true! He was a big boy and he eated all his food and Daddy always told him how good that was. Which meant when he showed his empty plate to his caregivers later, they would definitely tell him how clever and well-behaved he was!

But Vee was only small, and that meant she had a smaller tummy. Roman could see Vee finished all her milk—that was her favourite—but there was still some melon and lots of cereal left on her plate. If Roman was gonna get told how good he was for eating his breakfast, he didn’t want Vee to miss out on it and be jealous!

“Vee-Vee, you gotta eat all yours too.”

Vee looked down at her plate, then back up at Roman with a pout. “All of it?” she whined.

Roman shrugged. He really didn’t care that much. “I dunno, just eat some.”

That cheered Vee up and she instantly smiled and reached for the food. Then her hand froze in mid-air.

“Wait…” She fidgeted with her pyjamas again. “Did you find any cwayons when you cut up the m-melon?”

Roman’s lips trembled with the effort not to laugh. He couldn’t let Vee think he was making fun of her.

“Nah, there weren’t any, I checked.” It made Vee’s shoulders relax… So Roman kept going, just ‘cause it was really fun. “They’re pretty rare actually—kinda like pearls in oysters. That’s why you probably haven’t seen any crayons growing in the wild before.”

Every word Roman said made Vee nod more strongly. “That makes sense,” she muttered, giving a final firm nod before grabbing a cube of watermelon without hesitation. With her bare fingers.

“Don’t you wanna use your baby fork?” Roman suggested with a grimace. It made Roman shiver just to look at the melon juice dripping all over Vee’s hands. He scooched further away from her.

Apparently Vee hadn’t heard Roman—or she just wanted to show him her answer instead of telling him. She squashed the melon against her mouth with her hand and held it there while she sucked it, looking at Roman with wide, innocent eyes. There was probably melon juice all over her face now. Gross!

“Okay, fine,” Roman sighed, picking his toothbrush back up and chewing it as he went back to his drawing. “Just don’t touch me or my drawing.”

oOo

Continues immediately in part 2! I just broke it up for readability and to give you a good place to take a break, get some water, go to the bathroom, and maybe even come back tomorrow if it's late for you and you're sleepy! The second chapter is a little longer and it will still be here when you're rested up <3

Take me to part 2!

Also on AO3!

Reblogs, comments, and asks are very appreciated! <3

#pink crayons and pinky promises #little/big series fics #little/big series #agere roman #agedre roman #little roman #agere virgil #little virgil #nana janus #cg janus #ts agere #ts agere fic #sanders sides agere

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theatresweetheart · 5 years ago

Note

Ooh, what about 43. Soft kiss + 2. Kiss on the forehead with Prinxiety? Maybe it's angsty, maybe it's not. We'll never know >;)

Witching Hour Sleepover

Warnings: Nightmare mention, swearing, self-deprecation, crying, slight panic, negative self reflection, kissing, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: Romantic Prinxiety

Characters: Roman, Virgil, Logan and Patton (mentioned in passing, but not present)

Word count: 2425 words.

——————————

This was so dumb. He knew it was dumb. This whole thing was dumb and irrational and stupid and just go back to bed, Roman, there’s nothing wrong, it was just a nightmare.

And he wanted to, oh God how Roman just wanted to turn around and go back to his own bedroom. But he had to know. He had to. The images in his head had been so real and haunting, that he just needed to make sure that Virgil was fine. That he was still there and hadn’t ducked out forever.

Roman just had to convince himself.

In hindsight, he knew that Virgil was still there. Why wouldn’t he be?‌ They had worked everything out a while ago and he and Virgil had come to an understanding—not just an understanding, dumbass, you’re dating. He’s giving you a second chance after all those years of constant belittling.

That…didn’t make sense, not really. Virgil had forgiven him for all of that, but it seemed Roman had yet to forgive himself.

Shaking it off, he crept along the corridor as silently as possible. He snuck quietly past Patton and Logan’s rooms extra carefully, really not wanting to risk earning a lecture from either of them.

When he reached the dark purple door on his left, he took a breath. This was so dumb. Virgil could very well still be wide awake (and knowing the anxious Side, he probably totally was.)

But that didn’t matter, he had to know.

Carefully laying his hand on the doorknob, Roman leaned forward slightly, pressing his ear against the door to listen for any inside sounds. A book moving, Virgil tapping away at his laptop, the bed moving a lot showing the other Side trying to get comfortable, anything that could signify that Virgil was still awake and would catch him.

When there was no telltale sounds from inside, Roman carefully pushed the door open and peered inside. What he saw surprised him.

There, tucked under all of his covers in the darkness of the bedroom, was Virgil. Sound asleep in the middle of the bed. It looked like he had fallen asleep with his headphones connected to his phone, playing some soft music through the earbuds that had fallen out. Roman let out an steady breath, realizing that all of his fear had been in vain and relaxed the slightest bit more.

Knowing that Virgil was right there, sleeping soundly and not gone made his tense shoulders release.

Satisfied with that, Roman turned to leave when he heard shuffling from the bed. The comforters moved and he froze, shoulders immediately tensing back up at the noise.

“…Roman?” The sleepy voice from behind him made him cringe.

Great going, jackass, you woke him up.

Roman turned on his heels again, hand releasing the doorknob in favour of sticking them into his pajama pockets. He didn’t really know what else to do with them. “…hey, Virge.”

Virgil sat up in the darkness, rubbing his eyes and trying to blink away the exhaustion from them. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I was just, uh,” he fidgeted, trying to think of a reasonable excuse. This was so embarrassing. The reason he was even here was embarrassing and he knew for a fact as soon as he told Virgil, the other would get an immediate kick out of it. “I just needed to get out my room, that’s all.”

Virgil frowned and Roman could see it, even in the dark. His eyes had adjusted well enough now.

“Bull,”‌ Virgil called it instantly and Roman cringed again. “What really brought you here?”

The creative Side didn’t have the heart to answer, and he heard Virgil sigh from in front of him. Then there was the shuffling of blankets again, and then soft footsteps approaching him where he stood in the doorway. When he looked up again, the shorter Side was standing in front of him.

The first thing Roman noticed was that he was lacking his normal eye shadow—had it been wiped off? Smudged off during the night?‌ No, it would have been all over his face is that was the reason. He shook the thoughts away, then noticed that Virgil’s arms were crossed and his eyes were slightly glazed over by exhaustion, but there was still that resolute vigilance in them. He really did feel bad for waking him up, Virgil didn’t get a lot of sleep as it was and here Roman was, worrying him with his irrational fears.

“Y’know, standing at my door in the middle of the night totally isn’t creepy,” the shorter Side continued, obviously tired and wanting to go back to bed, but also obviously concerned.

“Sorry,”‌ was Roman’s immediate thought and it came out before he had thought about it.

Virgil quirked a brow in response, before rolling his eyes. He took a moment and debated something, but Roman could see that thoughtful look on his face before relenting and retreating back into his room. Roman almost took that as an invitation to leave, before he heard the blankets being yanked off the bed and being dragged out behind Anxiety.

Virgil shut his bedroom door before grabbing Roman by the wrist and tugging him behind him and down toward the stairs leading into the living room. Roman was careful not to step on the blanket around his shoulders, not wanting to yank him backward. They also took extra caution passing the others’ doors once more, really not wanting to risk a (loving and logical in turn) lecture about staying up this late at night.

Virgil led Roman down the stairs before nudging Creativity onto the couch. He heaved his blankets up and shoved them onto Roman before silently disappearing back up the stairs for a few more minutes, leaving Roman in a stunned silence.

Not ten minutes later, Virgil returned with his arms full of Roman’s blankets and pillows and everything else he could carry. The red sheets tumbled onto the couch when Virgil let them go and he was silently arranging them on the chesterfield in the most comfortable position.

Virgil grabbed his comfort pillow, before settling into the nest of blankets and pillows before pushing a pillow into Roman’s arms as well, having a feeling the prince would want something to hold onto.

Roman instead blinked at him, brown eyes blown wide in surprise. Hands subconsciously digging into the pillow now in his grasp. “What are we doing down here?”

“My room would make you freak out more,”‌ Virgil explained as if it was the most obvious thing, “and your room probably exaggerates what’s going on up here.”‌ He reached over and tapped Roman on the head. “Making whatever you were thinking about grander and more whimsical and more frightening and real. And then me being in your room would probably accelerate that process. So, the living room was the best option for neutral territory.”

Roman scoffed, but he had a feeling Virgil was right. “My thoughts wouldn’t have been exaggerated, that’s your job.”

Virgil snorted, clearly not believing him. “Sure,” he said, “whatever floats your boat.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, both holding onto their respective pillows before Virgil let out a soft breath and laid back into the waves of comforter. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep—and while he was silently mourning a night of sleeping in his bed, he wasn’t going to complain.

“So, what’s going on?”

The question seemed to be the last thing Roman wanted to talk about, but escaping it at this point was impossible. “What if I‌ said I was fine?”

“I’d totally believe you,” Virgil relented, closing his eyes and stifling a yawn. “Except for the fact that you never stand at my door ominously in the middle of the night, so I’m taking a shot in the dark here and saying that something is wrong.”

Roman held his breath, his eyes dropping down to the floor in front of them.

“So?” Anxiety prompted after a moment, tilting his head to the side.

It was kind of cute, Roman could admit that, the way Virgil’s eyes glittered in the darkness, flickering with something deeper than aggression and spite. It was something softer, a plea almost.

“I– had a nightmare,” he admitted after a moment more, keeping his eyes anywhere other than Virgil.

“Okay, what about?”

Roman hesitated again, unsure of how Virgil was going to take this. “You.”

“Me?” Virgil got a nod in response. His brows furrowed. “You had a nightmare about me?‌ Should I‌ be offended and/or worried?”

“No, no!” Roman was quick to stop him from going down that path. “It wasn’t about what you probably think it was about.”

This time Virgil was the one that hesitated. “Then what was it about? If not what you think, I’m thinking it’s about.”

Roman chuckled at that, glad for that brief break in the tense atmosphere. But his smile dropped and he sobered up not a moment later.

“…you ducked out again,” he said, his voice softer than before and he could feel Virgil tense up on the couch beside him. “But this time for good. None of us could convince you to come back to us, you know?” Roman could feel the heat building behind his eyes again and it was so stupid, you’re being dumb. He’s obviously right there beside you and not ducked out.

“Ro–”

“And it was my fault,” he cut Virgil off, and he could see the way Virgil softened in his peripheral vision. Roman wanted to tell him the whole thing before he got the inevitable rejection that was definitely coming. “You leaving for good was my fault. Everything I‌ ever said to you, everything I‌ ever did to you. I‌ couldn’t make anything better and you looked so destroyed and then your door was gone and I‌ just needed to—”

Roman’s voice cut off in a soft sob and he lifted his hand to muffle the sound, not wanting to wake anyone else. He then felt a gentle warmth on the side of his arm, and Virgil drew himself closer so he was sitting directly beside him, nearly completely pressed up against his side.

“Hey,” Virgil said, his voice was soft like a hum. “I’m not gone.” He reached up and took Roman’s hand in his own, and pulled it away from his mouth, squeezing it instead and he leaned forward, trying to catch the prince’s gaze. When Roman still refused to meet his eyes, Virgil used his empty hand to catch the side of his face and gently guide it to meet his eyes. Roman’s eyes stayed down. “We’ve both said some nasty shit, Roman. It wasn’t just your fault.”

“But it—”

“Shh.”‌ Virgil swiped his thumb across Roman’s cheek, wiping away some of the tears that slid down. “It’s okay. I‌ promise it is. We instigated each other, it wasn’t just you. But we’ve grown up. Look at where we are now, in this moment. We’re together and everything is fine. I’m here. You’re here. We’re here.”

Roman sucked in a stuttering breath, squeezing Virgil’s hand as if to prove that he was corporeal and sitting right in front of him.

“I’m not mad,”‌ Virgil promised him, “I never really was. We were young and dumb and bitter and resentful. We’re past that. I don’t hold it against you, so you shouldn’t hold it against yourself.” He swiped his thumb over the side of Roman’s face again, giving him the smallest of smiles. “We have fought like hell, and I’m sure we will continue to fight like hell–” Virgil managed to get a small choked laugh (maybe it was more of a sob) out of Roman, “–but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I‌ love you.”

In the quiet, as those words settled around them, Roman leaned forward and Virgil met him half way. The kiss was soft and it held an incredible amount of meaning behind it. Words that would remain unsaid, and words that neither had the heart to say to each other just yet.

Silent promises and wordless pleas.

A promise of devotion.

The two pulled back and Virgil raised both hands to swipe at the rest of the tears on Roman’s face, and he smiled gentler. It was almost more in his eyes than it was on his mouth. Roman met his eyes for the first time that night.

“There he is,” Virgil murmured softly.

After just a moment, Virgil decided enough was enough. It was late and they were both past the point of exhaustion. He slid back a little more on the couch, but never released Roman’s hands, unsure if he would be able to handle that loss of touch right now. He struggled a little and ended up having to let go of him in the end.

Virgil tried to get the ridiculous amount of blankets up into a usable position, before adjusting some of the pillows and getting them so they almost made the couch wider. It was more of a wall, really. If one of them fell off sometime during the night, it wouldn’t hurt when they hit the floor. He eventually found himself stretching out along the length of the couch and blinking up to the other Side, reaching his hands out to him. “C’mere.”

Roman only hesitated a second, before getting under the covers himself and finding himself snuggled up close, his eyes fluttering shut lazily. “…you’re okay?” He half-mumbled into Virgil’s shoulder, just as Virgil’s hand came up to smooth through his hair.

“Mm-hmm,”‌ Virgil hummed, his voice resonating through his chest, a soothing rumble that vibrated through him. Roman felt soft lips press against his forehead and he nearly melted further into the loving touch. “But if you get too heavy, you can bet your ass I’m pushing you off of me.”

Roman chuckled at that. It was a genuine sound.

They fell quiet again, the natural sounds of the home a soothing lullaby. Virgil’s heartbeat was steady and thrumming under his ear and his breathing was relaxed and comforting. They were curled up in the warmth of each other and Roman realized they would have to find another neutral spot that wasn’t out in the open like this.

It was nice being this close together.

Virgil’s hand had eventually stopped moving, falling lax but staying put, and Roman could have sworn he was asleep at this point.

“Virgil?”‌ He whispered after a moment.

“…mm?” Was the sluggish reply.

“I‌ love you too.”

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